


Over My Head

by aceAdoxography, Jadells



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Emotional Edging, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Past Abuse, RP format, Slow Burn, medical inaccuracy for the sake of plot, past toxic relationships, probably too much monopoly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 349,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceAdoxography/pseuds/aceAdoxography, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadells/pseuds/Jadells
Summary: Karkat accidentally hits Dave with his car and, upon finding out that he's concussed and has some broken bones, guiltily agrees to take care of him until he heals.Soulmate au
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 57
Kudos: 283





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is complete and it's massive so prepare for some long chapters my dudes. 
> 
> Karkat is written by aceadoxography and Dave is by Jadells

Karkat Vantas is having a shitty day, as usual. The universe at large has decided to fuck him over extra hard today and he has a feeling it’s not going to get any better. First he woke up late, sleeping through his three different alarms, and got bitched at by his boss for fifteen minutes. Then he had to deal with a slew of brain-dead asshole customers one after the other until it was time to clock out.

He thought maybe that would be it; he could go home, eat his weight in leftover pizza, and marathon movies or maybe snark at Sollux while playing games. Unfortunately, when he checked his phone he saw that he’d fucking forgotten Nepeta’s birthday like a complete jackass and, on top of that, discovered that her words appeared that morning. Obviously she posted a picture of them, scrawled out across her skin.

The worst part is that, instead of being happy for his friend, Karkat is overwhelmingly jealous. All his friends are finding their soulmates and he’s stuck, just as alone as alway. He probably doesn’t even have a soulmate, and he’ll never know. He’ll be on his deathbed still hoping like a fool that his soulmate will waltz into his life, the perfect words on their lips, ready to show up on his skin.

God, he’s such a melodramatic little shit.

Anyway, he’s currently in his car, taking the backroads to get downtown to see if he can find Nepeta a late gift at that store she likes. His phone goes off in the seat next to him, the ringtone belonging to his father. He grabs it, ready to tell his dad he’ll call him back later, but before he can even answer it there’s a loud thud and his car jerks. He slams on the brakes, heart racing, and stares out the window to see a prone figure on the ground in front of his car.

He scrambles out the door and runs over, kneeling next to the figure--a young man, who looks all kinds of fucked up. Oh fuck. Oh shit. What the fuck does he do?

His hands hover over the guy’s body, afraid to touch. The guy opens his eyes and woah, that color. He’s so caught off guard by the red eyes it takes him a moment to notice that the guy’s pupils are definitely not the same size.

“Oh fuck, I think you have a concussion.”

-

Dave is having a pretty good fucking day, as far as days go.

It was super dead at work so his boss—a chick who is as chill as she is a bangin’ hottie—told him he could dip out early. Fuck yes. Dave certainly didn’t have to be told twice. It was Friday, and he’d put in full shifts the rest of the week, so it wasn’t like losing a couple of hours wouldn’t hurt his paycheck too harshly. He’d still be able to make rent at the end of the month, no problemo.

He also had a stroke of fucking pure, unadulterated genius and remembered to pack his camera with him before heading for work today. Which was the long way of saying he actually remembered to take the meds that help him remember to do all the other shit he needs to do to function as a normal human being. So the day was just destined to go smoothly from the get-go.

Usually when he got off work he’d ride his skateboard home and stop to snag some pictures if he came across anything cool. But since he got off work early today, Dave decides to take a little detour and practice some tricks on his board.

Once he nails the trick a few times in a row, looking rad as hell in the process, thank you very much, Dave decides to try to push his good luck a little further. He’s on a scenic but low-traffic street, the twilight sky is perfect for photos, and Dave thinks he could get a really sick picture for his photography blog if he sets his camera up on a timer and tries the trick he’s mastered. He can see the image in his mind’s eye—pinky-purple twilight sky in the background, a city street lined with a few parked cars and large trees on either side, and him right in the middle of the shot in mid-air on his board. So fucking sweet.

Dave gets the camera all set up a few paces away, and sets a thirty-second timer. He dashes over to get into the perfect position, readies his board, takes off and—

WHAM

He’s up in the air, but not in the way he’d expected to be.

His skateboard goes flying out from under him, and Dave feels something solid slamming into his side. Then he’s not soaring through the air pulling off some sweet aerial maneuver, but falling—and then landing on the pavement like a fucking sack of potatoes, and head fucking first because he couldn’t even react in time to put out his arms like a normal person.

There isn’t any pain, but that’s probably because there’s so much of it that it isn’t registering yet. Dave rolls over a few times before he finally comes to a stop, laying flat out on his back, staring up at the pink-purple sky. He squints—fuck, his shades must have got knocked off. He squeezes his eyes shut with a groan. Dave wants to reach out his hand and search around for them, but his body won’t move.

His ears are fucking ringing, and he hears some muffled sounds but they sound warbled and distorted, like there’s static blocking the connection, or he’s got his head dunked under water.

“Fuuuck me,” Dave groans.

So much for that good luck.

He opens his eyes blearily and—oh shit, someone is hovering over him. His mouth moves, forming words, but Dave can’t understand a word the guy is saying.

It’s like looking through a soap opera filter, there’s a white haze at the edges of his vision. The dude in front of him is slightly blurry, but Dave can still make out some features. Dark, messy hair. Deep eyes framed by thick brows that are pulled into a worried line. The lowering evening sun is low and soft gold, and sits right behind this guy’s back, casting him in shadow and backlighting him in it’s glow.

Holy shit, nevermind. Dave was still the luckiest motherfucker on the planet today.

“You’re beautiful...”

-

Even through his blind panic Karkat feels himself blush at being called beautiful. Karkat is the furthest thing from beautiful a person can get. This is a very bad sign. How fucking hard did the dude hit his head? Shit.

“Okay you definitely have a concussion,” Karkat says. He bites his lip, trying to remember everything he knows about head injuries, which is apparently fucking nothing, if his absolutely blank thoughts are anything to go by. “Fuck, hold on, I’m gonna call an ambulance.”

He reaches into his pocket for his phone, only to find it missing. He left it in the car. God dammit. He bolts back over to the car and frantically searches for it until he finds it laying on the ground just outside. It’s not cracked, thank fuck, and he runs back over to his victim, who’s closed his eyes in the time that Karkat was gone. His heart drops. That’s not good, is it?

“Hey, hey, wake up,” he urges. Eyelids twitch but don’t open. “C’mon, wake up. Fuck please don’t die. Shit, okay, ambulance time.”

He tries to unlock his phone with trembling fingers and nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand wraps around his wrist. He looks down to find himself staring at glazed red eyes and his heart skips a beat. 

-

The Beautiful Mystery Man Who Hit Dave With His Car is talking, but Dave still can’t make out a single word he’s saying. He sounds a bit like how all the adults sound on Charlie Brown.

The thought makes Dave want to laugh, but the sound doesn’t come out. A choked off snort is all he can seem to manage as his vision flickers in and out.

Dave tries his best to focus on the hot little tamale beside him, but he’s so fucking dizzy. He looks past the guy’s head and the sky is moving around like it’s fucking Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Shiiiit, that’s cool. Where’s his camera? Fuck.

“Wan’ take a pi’sure...” Dave mumbles, head rolling to the side, eyes squinting as he blearily looks around the street for his camera. Also, where’s his fucking shades? They better not be broken or he might have to sue this hottie for emotional suffering.

Maybe he could make it up to Dave somehow, if that was the case...

Dave hears some distant sounds and wants to roll his head back over to look, but he can’t move. His eyes flutter closed.

Then there’s that distorted, deep voice again. It sounds...urgent. Worried. But Dave still can’t tell what he’s saying to him.

Dave wishes he could actually hear properly. This guy probably has a voice as sexy as his face. Dave manages to pry his eyes open and look back up at the Mystery Hottie, who’s sitting on his knees in front of him, looking like he was on his phone.

Phone, phone...

With a Herculean amount of effort Dave lifts an arm and grabs the Mystery Big Sexy Guy by the wrist. The man looks down at him, his eyes wide. Ooh, fuck they were pretty. Dave could stare into those babies all damn day...

“Wa’t’s y’r ph’n n’mbrrr?” Dave drawls out, and then he snorts out a weak laugh at that god awful attempt at human speech. It takes all his fucking brain cells churning at maximum capacity to be able to enunciate, but he gives his his best effort.

He’s probably dying or something right now, but maybe they got pay phones in heaven.

“Phhh-ooone numbrrr~” Dave says, scrunching up his face with the amount of concentration it takes to form the words coherently, “Gi—gim—them digitsss, ba-byyy...”

-

The guy slurs out something incomprehensible and Karkat is so fucking fucked. What if this is irreversible? What if he just ruined a stranger’s life because he just fucking had to answer the phone? All those TV ads about keeping your phone off were right, and Karkat is a motherfucking idiot and a colossal piece of shit. 

Before that line of thinking can go too far, however, the guy says something about a… phone number? Karkat’s brain, still pumping panic through his veins, struggles to make sense of this. And when it finally clicks--

“Are you fucking _hitting on me?_ ” Karkat asks, absolutely baffled.

A bubble of hysterical laughter builds in his throat. Who knew all it would take is some head trauma for someone to find him attractive? 

At least the guy is talking; that’s good, right? Karkat swallows a few times, takes a deep breath, tries to get himself under control.

“Okay, phone number, yeah sure,” he babbles. He gently pries the stranger’s hand off his wrist and carefully lays it down. He tries to swipe the emergency call button but his hands are shaking too much. And what if he dies from bleeding in his brain or something while Karkat is wrestling with his phone? But that thought only makes him panic _more._

“Ask me again when you aren’t fucking concussed,” he says. He’s not sure if the guy is actually comprehending him. Is that normal? Is it bad? 

Finally, _finally,_ he manages to get the dialpad up. But then he hesitates. Could the dude afford this? God knows Karkat wouldn’t be able to cover a ride in the fucking weewoo wagon. Bullshit American healthcare system.

“Hey, hey,” he says urgently. “Do you have insurance?”

-

Okay. Dave might actually be...really fucking hurt.

The adrenaline is still pumping through his veins, thank god, because otherwise he would probably be in agony right now. But his body is starting to play the catch-up game, finally getting the signals his muddled up smuppetass of a fuckbrain is sending it. And owww, fucking owwww, his fucking head is throbbing...

He still can’t move, and that’s honestly for the best. Dave isn’t sure how banged up he got just now, but...well, he did just get smoked by a fucking car, so probably a lot. He was able to lift his left arm to grab Hottie’s wrist, so that limb works, at least. He thinks.

Hottie pulls his hand away and lays it back down on the pavement. The small movement didn’t seem to hurt at all, so Dave is pretty sure that arm is good to go. His elbow stings, but that’s probably just from some nasty road rash.

As for his right arm...oh, yeah, fuck. That was the side he got hit on so that...that tracks. Dave’s broken a few bones in his time so he’s learned to know what to look out for, knows the sensation all too well.

Maybe all those strifes with Bro were good for something, after all.

...Hah. Yeah, right.

But he was able to check himself for injuries even while delirious with what’s probably a wicked concussion, so that was worth something, right?

Oh man, Hottie has been talking to him this whole time, hasn’t he? Shit, fuck. Dave still doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying to him. He focuses as hard as he can on the guys next words, but can only make out the last few.

...have insurance?

Dave definitely would have burst out laughing if he had all his faculties right now, because that was the funniest fucking shit he’d ever heard.

He spent more time locked in the fridge than he did in the American school system. Did this guy really think he’d have insurance?

“Nnnnope,” Dave manages to get out, wanting to shake his head back and forth but deciding better of it, “No am-bl’ance...”

-

No ambulance. Fucking fantastic. Okay. Karkat tucks his phone away and tries to think. 

“Don’t move,” he says, which is dumb as fuck considering the circumstances. He gets up and goes to open the passenger side door, then comes back and hesitates. You’re not supposed to move people with head injuries, are you? But he really needs to get this guy to the hospital.

“I doubt you can walk right now, huh?” Karkat asks him. He gets a squinted face in return and sighs. “Alright, just try to hold still.”

He awkwardly picks the man up into a bridal carry, trying to support his neck the best can. Karkat isn’t exactly weak but this guy is _light_ , such a negligible weight it’s almost like he isn’t there at all. Karkat takes him to the car and puts him in the passenger seat with as little jostling as he can, but he still groans in pain. Karkat shushes him gently and reaches over to buckle him in. It would be just his fucking luck to get into another accident and have the victim of his first go flying through the windshield.

When the guy is situated Karkat closes the door and heads to the other side, but something glinting in the light catches his attention. A pair of sunglasses a ways away and, now that he doesn’t have tunnel vision on the person he grievously injured, he sees a skateboard and a camera set up in the middle of the street. Fucking really?

He grabs all the shit he sees and tosses it into the back of the car before he begins the drive to the nearest emergency room, going as fast as he dares. When he risks a glance over at the person in the passenger seat he sees the guy has his eyes closed again.

“C’mon, asshole, stay awake,” Karkat says, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. “We’re almost there. What’s your name?”

-

Holy shit, Hottie picks him up fucking bridal style and maybe it’s just because Dave feels like he’s floating but he swears it takes no effort for this guy to lift him up. 

He knows he weighs about as much as a bag of grapes, but it’s still hot as fucking fuck. 

Dave wishes his arm wasn’t busted, so he could slip his arms around Hottie’s shoulder and bury his nose into his neck. He probably smells super good.

Before Dave knows it, Hottie is putting him...in his car? Oh man, he should probably be more freaked out right now, right? What if this guy doesn’t take him to a hospital? What if he steals Dave away and drives way out to some abandoned farmhouse way out in the boondocks where nobody can hear Dave scream...

Dave squints as he looks out the windshield. Hottie is over where they just were, crouching down. He does this in a few more spots and...oh, is that his skateboard? 

As Hottie gets closer to the car, Dave can see his arms are full with Dave’s belongings. Dave watches in the rear view mirror as Hottie opens the back door and tosses all his stuff into the back seat—shit, careful with that camera, my dude, shit was expensive, yo—

Instead of giving Hottie shit for tossing around his stuff, Dave’s eyes just slip closed again. Fuck, his head hurts. 

A car door shuts closed, the rumble of the engine starting back up, and then Dave is fairly certain they’re moving. But he’s really not sure. 

There’s the telltale deep, muffled rumble of Hottie’s voice, and in the confines of the car Dave can hear him a tiny bit better. Name? He’s asking for Dave’s name...

“S’ D—aaave,” Dave slurs, feeling like his tongue is swelling inside his mouth. He rolls his head to the side and manages to blink one eye open to look at his captor...or saviour. Whichever comes first. 

“Y’uuu gotta nameee? Orrr sh’ld I jus’ keep callin’ y’uuu hottieee?”

-

The guy slurs out his name--Dave--and asks a question that takes a moment for Karkat to process. When he does it’s all he can do not to snap his head and stare at Dave, open mouthed.

“ _Hottie_???” he repeats, appalled. “Holy fuck you do have brain damage. Or--fuck, maybe when you hit your head it fucked with your eyes. Jesus christ. I am begging you not to sue me, I don’t have any money for you to take. And why the fuck were you in the middle of the road anyway? Are you a fucking idiot? Because it looked like you were trying to take a fucking picture of yourself on a skateboard in the middle of a street which sounds a hell of a lot like something an idiot would do.”

He takes a deep, steadying breath. He needs to calm down. Dave is awake and talking and even though his right arm looks kind of fucked up it’s not like it’s been ripped out of its socket or something. Disregarding the fact that he’s hitting on Karkat like Karkat’s a decently attractive human being instead of a disgusting gremlin creature who crawled out of the sewers, things could be much worse.

“My name’s Karkat,” he says, and his voice only shakes a little bit.

“Keep talking,” he urges. “Stay awake.”

It’s not long before they get to the hospital. Karkat drives up to the emergency entrance and turns his car off, leaving it in front. He’s pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that but this is an emergency and he can move it after Dave’s been checked in.

He eyes a wheelchair inside the doors but he doesn’t want to spend however long fucking around with it, trying to figure it out. So instead he gets out, reaches over to unbuckle Dave, and does his best to gently pull him out, back into his arms. He kicks the car door shut and heads inside. God fucking bless whoever invented automatic sliding doors.

-

Hottie is talking a mile a minute and he sounds—scared? Confused? Worried? Irritated? Dave still can only make out every other word, but he’s pretty sure this guy is...mad at him, maybe?? It definitely sounds like he’s getting a tongue-lashing, at least.

Karkat.

So the Mystery Hottie has a name, after all. Karkat. Huh. That was kind of a weird name, but then again Dave’s middle name was fucking Elizabeth for some goddamn reason (Bro probably thought it was hilarious. Whatever.) So it wasn’t like he was in any position to judge.

“Striiiider,” Dave says, “Las’ namee...”

They were going to the hospital, right? They’d need his full name, yeah? Gah. Dave can barely keep a thought in his head. It’s hard enough trying to remember Hottie’s name.

Karkat. Karkat.

He told him to keep talking. Right, right, right. Stay awake, keep talking.

“Karrrkat, huh?” Dave mumbles, “Thas’ a nice nameee...”

Then—whoop—oh, Jesus—he’s getting picked up again. Dave giggles. This whole situation is so fucking ridiculous. If you had told Dave he would be getting carried bridal-style into the emergency room by some fucking Adonis, Dave would have laughed himself silly.

But, well. Here he is. And he’s so delirious that he is giggling like an idiot as Hottie—Karkat—carries him dutifully into the hospital. Why the hell didn’t he just put Dave in a wheelchair or some shit? This was like something out of a TV romance drama. So over the top.

But...it’s also kind of sweet. This guy didn’t need to go to all this trouble for Dave’s sake. It was kind of Dave’s fault, after all. He should have been more careful. Anyone else might have just called an ambulance and stayed with Dave until it showed up, let Dave deal with the repercussions. But this guy—Karkat—drove him to the fucking hospital and is now carrying him inside. What the hell.

This might just be the best day of Dave’s life.

-

Dave giggles as Karkat carries him inside and it’s kind of fucking adorable and also really concerning. Karkat carries him to the check in area, drawing all the eyes in the room because he has a laughing, beat up idiot in his arms. At least he was able to give his last name.

Someone rushes over with a wheelchair and Karkat settles Dave into it. He gives the only information he has on him to the receptionist as Dave is rushed to the back, skipping ahead of all the other people waiting. Head trauma is not to be taken lightly.

Karkat goes to park his car and uses the time to clear his head. The adrenaline is starting to fade, making him shake even more. He feels like crying and he doesn’t know why. He pushes that shit aside and focuses on breathing, and trying to figure out his next move.

He could leave. There’s still time to get Nepeta a present. He could leave Dave in the care of qualified medical professionals and go on with his life, pretending this never happened. That would be the smart thing to do. But he looks to the backseat and sees all of Dave’s things and guilt overwhelms him once more.

What kind of asshole would he be if he left? Karkat isn’t the best person in the world but he’s not a fucking monster. He hit Dave with his car. The least Karkat can do is hang around and make sure he’s alright. 

His decision made, he heads back into the hospital and waits. He fucks around on his phone, tells Nepeta happy birthday and he’ll see her tomorrow, that he’s happy she found her soulmate. He waits. He plays candy crush on his phone. And waits, and waits, and waits.

-

Consciousness comes to Dave in spurts, at first. 

He can remember flashes. The sound of the car slamming into him. The pretty dude wreathed in golden sunlight. Sitting in a car and getting chewed out by said pretty dude—who had a name. What was it? What was it? 

Right. Karkat. 

Dave can barely recall what he’d had for breakfast that morning, but he can remember the name of the dude who hit him with his car, who told him his name while Dave was delirious with a head injury. 

A few more flashes follow after that. He can remember the sliding doors opening as Karkat carried him—fucking carried him—into the emergency room. He got plopped into a wheelchair not long after that and was getting taken down a long, white hallway, and all he can remember thinking was that Karkat didn’t go with him and the thought of that—

Scared him? 

Dave isn’t sure. He blacked out before the thought could manifest much farther than that. 

When he wakes up, he considers the idea that all of that might have just been a really vivid dream. But when his senses return to him, slowly, one-by-one, he surmises he is definitely not home in bed right now. 

After a few terrifying moments of not knowing where the fuck he is passes once he starts to remember things—he got hit by a car. He was taken to the emergency room. He’s in a hospital bed, not back home in his apartment—he starts to settle down. 

He opens his eyes, and fuck—that’s a big mistake. Light shoots into his eyes like he’s being stabbed by fucking ice picks straight through his corneas. Dave groans and squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, where the fuck were his shades?? 

After a moment or two, Dave peels one eye open to take in his surroundings. Small room. White. Plain. Sterile. He looks down. He’s laying on the bed, but he’s still wearing his own clothes, not one of those gowns that show the world your entire ass, thank god. 

And he’s all patched up. His left arm is wrapped in gauze and bandages, laying at his side.

Attached to the inside of his elbow is a needle—ugh—which leads up to an IV bag full of clear fluid. Okay. Pretty fucking standard so far. His exploration brings him back down to his arms again to see that his right arm is in a dark blue sling. Shit. Looks like he was right on the money about that broken arm.

Dave groans, head lolling to the side. Fuuuck, the room was spinning.

Dave lifts his left arm, wincing at the sensation in his elbow, trying not to think about the needle. He doesn’t even want to bend his elbow, though he knows he’d be able to. Dave tries to reach up to touch his forehead but drops his arm, wincing at the IV needle. Ugh, it’s so weird, he wants it out—

There aren't any bandages wrapped around his head, which is a surprise. Dave is pretty sure he cracked his head open, with how hard he hit the ground. He scrunches up his face. He can feel a bandage on his forehead, but otherwise there’s nothing.

Alright. So they slapped some gauze and a couple band-aids and a sling on him. Dave could have fucking done that himself. It’s not like he hasn’t spent his whole life playing the part of every medical professional his Bro never bothered to take him to, after all. Fuck. How much was this going to cost him??

Dave leans his head back against the pillows with a sigh. Looks like the Hottie—Karkat—wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Not that Dave is surprised. But it would have been nice to see his face again—Dave had never been to a hospital before. It would have been nice to not wake up all alone.

-

Hours pass. Karkat gets impatient and anxious, and asks about Dave multiple times. The answer is always the same: since he’s not family they can’t tell him anything. He clenches his teeth so hard it’s painful, trying to keep himself from shouting. He needs to know that Dave is okay, that he doesn’t have permanent brain damage or that he fucking _died_ and it’s Karkat’s fault.

He sits on an uncomfortable chair and berates himself mentally for being such an absolute moron. What was he thinking? He’s surprised he’s able to tie his own fucking shoes in the morning.

Finally, after an eternity of seeing people come and go with various injuries and illnesses, a nurse comes to talk to him. Dave is awake, and they’re letting him back to see him. He agrees instantly and follows the nurse through the double doors, then down a long hallway until they reach a door that looks exactly like the rest. The nurse opens the door and he walks in.

Dave looks even more fragile wrapped in bandages and a sling, sitting upright in a hospital bed, than he did laying motionless in the street. His bright red eyes open as Karkat walks in and they’re just as strange and surprising as the first time he saw them.

Karkat shifts his weight awkwardly. What the fuck is he supposed to say in a situation like this? ‘Sorry I hit you with my car’? ‘Please don’t sue me’?

“Uh, hey,” he says. He chews his lip for a moment and continues, “I hope it’s okay for me to be here. I can fuck off if you want me to. God knows I wouldn’t want to see the asshole who ran me over. Are you okay?”

-

After dealing with nurses puttering around and asking him a bunch of questions, Dave is left to himself again. He doesn’t have his phone, so he stares out the window, even though there isn’t a hell of a lot to see.

It must be sometime in the late evening now, because it’s dark outside. He’s fucking hungry, he’s been up three fucking times to pee because this IV has chocked him FULL of fluids (should he be peeing this much in a day, is he really that dehydrated?) the nurses brought him some food about an hour ago but it wasn’t enough.

There’s a small TV in the corner of his room and the nurse had to take the remote away because he kept turning it on and apparently he’s “not allowed” because it’s “straining” and that’s just stupid but whatever. Staring out the window isn’t physically taxing, right? Just boring as fuck after like, thirty seconds. He’s been doing it for at least fifteen minutes now.

A nurse walks back into the room and Dave finally looks away from the window and—oh.

He’s still here?

Dave stares stupidly as Karkat walks up to the bed, looking incredibly anxious. He gives Dave an awkward hello, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and biting his lip.

So the Hottie is a cutie, too. That’s just fucking illegal.

Dave can’t believe he’s still here. He did what he needed to do—actually, even more than that. He got Dave help, he got him to the hospital. Dave’s heart should not be racing as much as it is—his stupid, gay little heart is obviously reading way too much into this scenario.

Karkat hit him with his car. He probably is just being a decent fucking human being and sticking around to exchange information. Wait. Does that still happen if Dave wasn’t driving himself? What was even the protocol here? It’s not like Dave wants to sue the guy—like, yeah, he got hurt...but....

It was his fault. He needed to be more careful. He probably dented Karkat’s car with the impact so if anything, he should be the one paying Karkat.

Then Karkat is asking Dave if he’s okay, and Dave’s stupid heart races even faster. He has the idle thought to be thankful he’s not hooked up to one of those machines that would broadcast his heart rate to the entire room (and therefore Karkat, the culprit) because that would be very fucking embarrassing to explain.

Dave’s attention-deficit-and-now-severely-concussed brain dredges up a melody and he switches around the lyrics.

Hey, I just met you—and this is crazy—but you ran me over—so call me maybe?

“I’m right as rain,” Dave replies, trying to keep his voice even, “They chocked me up on aspirin and fluids and fed me a five-star meal of some apple slices, a turkey sandwich, and some orange juice—I would have preferred apple juice but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Dave tries to shrug in a devil-may-care, noncommittal way but his arm is in a sling so it winds up as more of an awkward shuffle and a wince he barely has a chance to conceal.

“I don’t care that you’re here, but, like...don’t feel obligated to stay or whatever. I’m not gonna sue you. It was my bad, so it’s chill. No harm done. Well, yes harm done but...you know. Anyway, I can give you my number and if you feel like working out the details once you get your car looked at for damages we can...do that.”

Wow, did Dave really just offer to give this guy his number? So smooth, Strider.

“Even if it’s just like, a broken headlight or whatever. I’ve got you covered.” Dave adds on quickly, “Like I said, it was my fault, so I’d be kind of a dick if I pressed charges, right? Plus, you’ve been really cool about all this. You drove me here, right? My brain is a little more fucked up than it usually is so it’s hard to remember, but—I’m pretty sure you picked my broken ass off that street and whisked me off to the hospital like some kind of superhero, and you didn’t have to but you did, so...that kind of makes up for the rest of it, I would say. Maybe get me some real food and we’ll call it even?”

Dave finally clamps his lips shut because holy fuck did he really just offer to give this dude his phone number and ask him out for dinner in practically the same breath? What the fuck was wrong with him?

Well, a lot of shit, more right now than the usual, in fact. But that's besides the point.

-

Dave stares at him with wide eyes and it’s cute as shit, but Karkat pushes that thought away. His mind just automatically goes there because Dave had been hitting on him when his brain was scrambled. Yeah. Has nothing to do with the fact that, even after having been hit by a car, Dave looks really good; he has handsome features. High cheekbones, a straight nose, a delightful cupid’s bow, and god those _eyes_. He’s so much Karkat’s type but he locks that shit down.

He just almost killed the guy. Now is not the time. Besides, when Dave opens his mouth, even though he doesn’t stop fucking talking, he seems more lucid. Which means any chance Karkat might have had is gone now.

Karkat’s eyebrows draw together the more Dave talks. Tension drains out of him when Dave says he’s not gonna sue, but he doesn’t even get a chance to say thank you due to the torrent of words. And--a _superhero_? Yeah the fuck right. When he finally shuts the fuck up, Karkat does what he does best: falls back on insults.

“Are you actually brain dead? Did hitting your head knock any semblance of intelligence out of you or are you just like this?” he demands. Dave’s eyebrows raise in surprise and Karkat wonders if maybe he should stop, but his mouth just keeps on going. “You’re not paying for shit. I ran your ass over, for fuck’s sake, who the fuck gives a shit about my car? Besides you, apparently, but you’re concussed and apparently fucking stupid so you don’t count.”

He takes a breath and tries to calm down. What is wrong with him? First he nearly kills someone then he yells at them. Why is he like this?

“I can get you food,” he says, after a moment. “There’s a Subway across the street. They probably have apple juice. What else do you want?”

Getting Dave a somewhat decent meal is the least Karkat can do. 

-

Once Dave finally shuts the fuck up, Karkat is quick to open his mouth and Dave finally gets to experience the full-brunt of this dude’s tongue-lashing. He must have been really muddled earlier because how in the hell else was he barely able to hear when he spoke? This Karkat guy clearly did not have a Volume Down button.

He’s calling Dave brain-dead and stupid and the nurse is looking rightfully nervous and confused, looking back and forth between the two of them and looking like she wants to step in and say something.

Dave can feel his eyebrows going higher and higher up his forehead as the tirade continues, but he’s not feeling hurt by what he’s saying. Maybe it’s the concussion talking, but Dave actually feels like he wants to laugh. But he swallows it down. He doesn’t want Karkat to think he’s stupid _and_ crazy. Even though from the sounds of it, he probably already does. But he also doesn’t expect Dave to pay for any damages to his car, so...maybe he wasn’t actually mad after all? It was too confusing to think about all this. The nurse told him not to strain himself, so maybe he needs to stop thinking about all of this so much.

Then Karkat is instantly switching gears and asking if Dave wants anything from fucking Subway, and he’s still talking in that irritated tone of voice so Dave’s murky brain has to play catch-up. He’s actually going to go and get him food?

“Uh...” Dave begins, stupidly. That really wasn’t helping his “Karkat thinks he’s stupid” case.

Dave clears his throat and tries again, shuffling in bed to sit up a bit straighter.

“Well, shit, man, that’s—that’d be really fucking sweet, actually. Uh, I would come with but they’re apparently going to put my arm in a cast soon, so, um...” Dave tries to remember what the fuck he even gets when he goes to Subway.

His usual order was kind of a doozy. He should probably keep it more simple, he doesn’t want to trouble the guy more than he already has.

“Steak and cheese? Lots black olives and pickles, like seriously, just tell them to fuck it right up with black olives and pickles. Jalapeños, too. Uh, but like just the normal amount of jalapeños they put on it, I’m not a complete animal. Annnnd...barbecue sauce. And chipotle. Oh, if the soup of the day is Broccoli and Cheese, I am all over that shit. If not, uhh...just hook me up with some chocolate-chip M&M cookies, I guess.”

-

Karkat’s nose scrunches up in disgust as Dave rattles off his order, but he commits it to memory regardless. He gives Dave a sharp nod and turns to the door, mission-oriented, but the nurse pipes up with an “um… actually…”

Karkat turns to her, face set in its usual grumpy scowl, and she quickly amends, “nevermind.”

Weird. But whatever. Karkat casts a glance back at Dave and says, “I’ll be right back. Hopefully before they take you to put on your cast.”

And then he’s off to Subway, the land of inconveniences, to get what sounds like a sandwich made of pure garbage for the man he hit with his car. He comes close to strangling the people in front of him for taking so long with their order, and the employee’s face as he lists off what Dave wants is exactly how Karkat feels inside. He insists that they pile the garbage heap high with pickles and black olives, and orders the soup and a few cookies as well. And the bottle of apple juice, of course.

He gets a comparatively simple turkey sub for himself and winces at the cost of all this. It’s not exactly expensive, it’s fucking Subway, but there’s a reason he lives mostly off of ramen and mac and cheese. His father would have a conniption if he ever discovered what Karkat’s diet consists of since he moved out.

Order in hand, he heads back to the hospital and finds his way back to Dave’s room. He plops the bag on his lap and says, “You’re disgusting. Here’s your food.”

He sits down in a hard plastic chair and then pauses. Dave said he didn’t mind Karkat being here, but maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he has family or friends or a significant other on their way who _isn’t_ concussed, and will be rightly pissed off the exact way Dave should be. Maybe Karkat should go.

-

Karkat comes back after about twenty minutes and drops a bag into Dave’s lap before plopping down in a chair next to the bed.

Dave practically rips into the bag like a ravenous wolf, which is a little hard to do with just one arm, but excited ramblings fall from his mouth as he pulls out his food regardless.

“Oh, fuck yes, dude—holy fuck, this smells so fucking good—do you have the same religious experience I do whenever you step through the doors of a Subway? The smell of the bread cooking in the ovens? So fucking good. Oh shit, you even got me a foot-long, bless your heart—“ Dave awkwardly rolls the sandwich wrapper across his lap until the sandwich comes free of the paper. “You got me the soup and the cookies? You are officially my new favourite person, wow.”

Dave doesn’t waste any more time, he has to get this sandwich in his mouth now. He picks up one of the cut halves of the sandwich and can see that it is loaded with pickles and black olives—he can barely see the steak. Perfect. Excellent. Fuck, his mouth is watering.

He takes a big fucking bite and a couple of stray olives coated in sauce dribble out of the bottom of the sandwich and onto the paper in his lap. Dave moans as he chews his bite.

“Fuuuuck yes, this is just what the fuckin’ doctor ordered,” Dave says, his mouth still full, “Okay, maybe not these doctors, but fuck ‘em.”

Dave looks up and sees that Karkat hasn’t even pulled out his sandwich yet. “Dude, aren’t you starving? You’ve been sitting in the waiting room for what, like three hours?? Fuckin’ hospitals. Go on, eat up, man.”

-

Dave talks nonstop as he struggles with the wrapper on his food. Karkat is tempted to offer to help but he doesn’t want to smother the guy, which his friends tell him he has a tendency to do. So he watches Dave fight to get his food out with increasing annoyance, until he takes a bite and moans like a porn star. Karkat desperately tries to keep his face blank.

But Dave seems okay with him sticking around, so Karkat unwraps his sandwich with much more ease than Dave did and takes a bite. Tastes like underwhelming fast food. Lovely.

“Take a fucking breath between bites, you heathen,” Karkat orders after he swallows. He doesn’t know how Dave is getting enough air between scarfing down his food like he’s never eaten before and talking Karkat’s ear off.

“Have you called your family or someone? Let them know you’re not dead or dying?” Karkat asks. 

-

Dave finishes the last bite of the first half of his footlong and the. Karkat gives him shit for talking with his mouth open. Dave pops open his soup and takes a gulp of it right out of the bowl so he can hide the amused smile that pulls at his lips. This Karkat guy was a real mother hen, huh?

It was sorta nice.

Dave never had anyone around in his life that seemed like...genuinely concerned with his well-being? This guy has only known him for a few hours and yet he carried Dave to the hospital, waited for hours to be allowed back to see him, and then got him food. And now he’s making sure doesn’t Dave doesn’t choke on his food.

Dave’s heartbeat picks up again. He slurps down more soup, hoping that Karkat will think the colour flooding to his cheeks is from the heat of the soup, and not...something else.

Then Karkat asks about Dave’s family. Which consists of...Bro. Which hardly counts as family, as far as Dave is concerned.

Dave sets his soup off to the side, on the little table beside the bed, and picks up the other half of his sandwich. His mind searches for a response that sounds a little less pathetic than _I got the boot as soon as I was eighteen and I’ve been on my own ever since_ , but...it was the truth. Dave’s truth was that the only family he had—or knew of, at least—fucking hated his guts just for existing.

Bro wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if Dave got hospitalized. In fact, he’d probably just scoff and tell Dave how weak and pathetic he was.

“Uh, they’re all outta state, so...not much they can really do anyway, y’know?” Dave replies, when he realizes he’s just been staring at his sandwich in silence for too long. He takes a large bite to keep his mouth busy.

-

Dave doesn’t even eat his soup with a spoon, he just drinks it straight from the bowl. Christ, did no one ever teach him manners or is he just really fucking hungry? 

Dave goes quiet at his question and stays that way a long time, staring blankly at his sandwich. Karkat thought he’d enjoy the silence but instead something cold and anxious settles in his gut. He clearly said something wrong. But before he can try to compose an apology that sounds genuine instead of the usual shit that falls out of his mouth, Dave snaps back to himself and gives a bullshit excuse about his family being out of state. Karkat doesn’t call him on it.

He does frown, though, contemplative.

“I’ll give you a ride home once you’re done here,” he says, then backtracks, “if you want.”

Way to pressure a stranger into giving you their home address, Vantas, great job there. He should crawl into a cave and never come out. How is he so fucking socially inadequate? His dad isn’t like this. Fucking _Kankri_ isn’t like this, though he’s insufferable in an entirely different way.

He wraps up the second half of his sandwich and tucks it away for later, sensing that he’s going to be here awhile.

“Did they tell you how long it’ll be until you’re free?” he asks, then winces at himself. He fucking hates hospitals, but he doesn’t need to make it sound like it’s a prison. 

-

Karkat doesn’t press any further about his family. His thick brows pull together and he frowns a little, but he stays quiet. Dave is thankful for it.

Dave takes another bite of his sandwich as the silence hangs in the air. It’s not particularly uncomfortable, which should be weird, because he literally just met this dude. But Karkat looks deep in thought, and Dave is still fucking hungry, so he just focuses on his food while he waits for Karkat to speak.

Then Karkat is offering Dave a ride home. Dave looks up from his food, still chewing on his bite while he stares at Karkat, wide-eyed.

It’s then Dave finally realizes that he isn’t wearing his shades, and he suddenly feels incredibly exposed. He wears them all the time, he hadn’t even noticed he didn’t have them on. Fuck. He would rather be in a backless hospital gown right now. That would be less exposing than this.

Dave looks away, breaking eye contact. He sets down his sandwich to grab a napkin and wipe off his fingers, which is just as cumbersome to do one-handed as eating the sub is. He’s making a lot more of a mess than he usually would. He picks up a stray pickle that landed in a puddle of sauce on the paper and pops it into his mouth.

“Uh, I’m not really sure,” Dave says after he swallows, making a conscious effort now not to talk with his mouth full. “They said they’d be back soon. Apparently I broke my elbow, so they need to like...immobilize it, so I can’t just wear a sling. But you don’t have to drive me home, you’ve done...shit, more than enough. I can just, like...call an Uber. It’s cool.”

Then, a flicker of memory comes back to Dave, and he recalls seeing Karkat collecting all his stuff off of the street.

“Did you, uh, happen to get my bag and shit? I had my wallet and phone in my backpack, and um...there was my camera...and shades.”

-

Dave stares at him for a long moment, his striking eyes holding in Karkat in place, then looks away. Oh, fuck, Karkat made him uncomfortable. He’s such a piece of shit; of course Dave doesn’t want him knowing where he lives.

And Dave broke his elbow. Wonderful.

“I think you’re forgetting the part where I hit you with my fucking car,” Karkat says, scowling. “This is the least I can do.”

“I grabbed all the shit I saw in the street. A bag, a skateboard, a camera and some shades, yeah. It’s all in my car,” Karkat tells him “I am literally begging you to tell me you weren’t trying to get a picture of yourself on a skateboard in the middle of the road, because that’s what it looked like. Not that that’s a fucking excuse to run your ass over but still, what the fuck?”

He’s legitimately bewildered. It was an admittedly empty street, which is why Karkat had been there in the first damn place, but _why?_

-

Dave tried to give Karkat an out, but, hey, the dude is persistent. Dave will give him that.

Dave has to admit he’s curious what Karkat’s idea of a limit is, because the least that Karkat has done up until now is still more than anything that anyone has ever done for Dave. Like, ever.

Dave doesn’t even know this guy’s last name, and yeah he seems like he’s a bit grouchy...but it was in the same way that like, Burt from Sesame Street was grumpy. Homeboy just liked things a certain way and Ernie was intent on fucking that all up on a daily basis. But you could tell Burt was still a gentle lamb, hidden beneath a rough exterior.

Karkat was even wearing a woollen sweater. He was totally Burt. With like, a decent helping of Oscar the Grouch on the side, maybe.

Shit. Did that make Dave Ernie?

And here he thought he was more of a Doctor Teeth type of dude.

Wait.

Doctor Teeth was from The Muppets. All those fucking puppet shows just blended together when they were all you watched.

Oh, Karkat’s still talking. Focus up, Dave. He mentally snaps his fingers in front of his face and looks back over at Karkat. He’s relieved to hear that Karkat managed to collect all of Dave’s things. That would have been a real bummer if he lost literally any of it. There Karkat goes again, saving his fucking bacon.

Ah. Now Karkat wants to know what the fuck Dave was even doing there in the first place. Yeah. Dave figures he probably owes Karkat an explanation for why he now had to deal with the aftermath of hitting some careless idiot with his car.

“Got it in one, yeah,” Dave says, looking sheepish, “I thought it’d make for a cool post for my blog. But uh, that ship done sailed, huh?”

Dave idly wonders if his camera managed to snap the exact moment he got wailed by a car. That might be an even better blog post than his original idea. Dave will have to check what his camera managed to pick up later.

“Sorry, I know it was a dumbfuck thing to do.”

It wasn’t like Dave had anyone growing up to drill the rule of look both ways into his head. But it was just kind of...fucking common sense. He really should have checked to make sure nobody was coming. And now here he is, wasting Karkat’s time.

-

Karkat takes a deep breath, gets a vice grip on his anger, and pushes it down. His eyes slip closed. He has an extremely bad habit of turning everything he feels--especially worry--into annoyance and anger. He was fucking unbearable as a teenager, but he’s gotten better. It’s still a work in progress.

When he feels less like he’s about to fly off the handle he opens his eyes and levels Dave with a serious look. 

“It was _really fucking stupid_ , yes,” he says. “But I was distracted when I shouldn’t have been. At least you’re okay. Relatively speaking.”

He glances at Dave’s elbow, frowning. How long does it take broken bones to heal? He has no fucking idea. He feels the guilt threatening to eat him whole.

At fucking last, a doctor walks into the room. Karkat glances at Dave, wondering if he should leave the room. 

-

A doctor comes into the room and introduces himself to both Karkat and Dave.

He asks Dave how he’s feeling, and eyes the food all over the bed and asks if Dave has been feeling nauseated and if he’s been able to keep food down. Dave answers all of the man’s questions dutifully, trying to act laidback. Like he gets hit by cars and gets severe concussions and broken arms every day. Business as usual. He is cool as a cucumber.

The doctor instructs him on some protocol for healing from his concussion. No excessive physical activities like contact sports, and no strenuous mental activities. He asks Dave if he’s in school, and Dave says he’s not. Which is good, because it means he doesn’t have to worry about not being able to read assignments or study for tests.

It’s all pretty standard shit, so Dave isn’t sure why he feels so fucking nervous all of a sudden. It’s his first time being in a hospital, and it’s not nearly as scary as TV made it out to be. Everyone has been really nice, and he’s not in any pain right now. This doctor wasn’t going to hurt him, he was trying to help.

But Dave can’t stop the buzzing, numb feeling in his hands.

Then the doctor is telling him he’s going to take Dave into another room to be fitted for a cast, and Dave gets up out of bed. Karkat stays put in his chair, looking unsure of himself.

Dave looks over his shoulder as the doctor starts to leave the room and over at Karkat. “Uh, you can come with. If you want. You can see if there’s a bone sticking out or something.”

Dave fights back a wince. His nerves were totally fucking fried right now, and he didn’t have much of a filter even when he wasn’t—

He’s not...he’s not scared. He just doesn’t want to ditch Karkat to sit in this hospital room all by himself.

Yeah. That’s why he’s offering for him to tag along. Doesn’t want to leave the guy hanging, not after everything he’s done for him.

Karkat follows (thank god) and they’re led into another room with one of those beds with the crinkly paper on top. Dave steps up on the bed, a little unbalanced with his arm in the sling.

Then the doctor removes the sling and the bandages and...well, there’s no blood. No bones poking out of his elbow, (thank goddd) and Dave looks over at Karkat and offers him a crooked grin.

Then his arm is getting wrapped up in a bunch of soft cotton material, and it feels like his whole arm is a pillow. Then there’s the fibreglass tape, which hardens once it starts to get wrapped around his arm—Dave watches on in fascination.

He isn’t sure if it’s the gentle demeanour of the doctor, or the fact this doesn’t hurt, but he isn’t feeling nervous anymore. Or maybe it’s something else. Dave has to remind himself he still isn’t wearing his shades, and stops himself from peeking over at Karkat.

Next step is—oh fuck yes.

The doctor brings out a roll that’s covered in all kinds of coloured tape, and asks Dave to pick one.

“Red,” Dave says, barely even able to hold back before the doctor finishes speaking. He pauses for a moment then adds on, quickly, “Uh, please. Sir.”

Then, it’s done, and Dave is walking out of the room with a brand new cast, wrapped in red. He and Karkat head back to the room he was in before and Dave plops down on the edge of the bed and goes right back to his food.

It’s still awkward as fuck to eat one-handed, but he’s still stupid with hunger so he doesn’t exactly care.

“Well, they’re gonna kick me outta here soon, so, I guess I’ll scarf this down and then we can head out.” Dave says, “Um...thanks again, for all of this. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

-

The doctor talks, and asks questions, and Dave is surprisingly quiet throughout. He answers the doctor but they’re nothing like the rambling tangents Karkat’s gotten used to. But Karkat doesn’t know Dave well enough to tell if this means something is wrong or if doctors are an exception to his babbling. Maybe Karkat should look into medical school.

Dave says he can go with them while they put the cast on and Karkat jumps at the chance not to be left alone in the room. God he fucking hates hospitals. They remind him too much of those months as a child, sitting by his mother’s bedside as she slowly faded away, his dad on the phone outside and Kankri busy too busy with his school activities to visit. It’s quiet, it’s sterile, it’s absolutely terrible.

As much as he _doesn’t_ want to see Dave’s bones sticking out of his skin, Karkat would take it over being left alone in a hospital room.

The cast goes on without much fanfare. Dave smiles at him when the sling comes off and Karkat’s heart skips a beat; Dave has a really nice smile. It’s the first time he’s seen it, other than when Dave was laughing his head off as Karkat carried him to the hospital--which Dave keeps fucking bringing up, and it makes his cheeks warm every time.

Dave eagerly asks for a red cast, which is cute. Then they’re heading back to the room and Dave once again starts inhaling his food. Karkat wonders if he should buy him a pizza or something.

“It’s not a problem,” Karkat replies to Dave’s apology. He doesn’t know why Dave keeps fucking saying sorry; if it was Karkat who’d been hit he’d be fuming. 

A nurse comes in with discharge papers but hesitates before handing them over to Dave, asking if he has someone to look after him while he recovers. Apparently people with concussions shouldn’t be left alone for awhile, in case their symptoms get worse, or they can’t look after themselves due to confusion or memory loss. Who knew?

But Dave flounders when faced with the question, and Karkat recalls his odd behavior when he’d asked about Dave’s family. He bites his lip, thinking, and speaks up. 

“I’ll do it,” he offers. Dave’s head snaps over to look at Karkat and he winces. Yeah, this idiot definitely needs looking after. “If you want. It’s my fault, after all.”

-

Karkat just tells Dave it’s ‘not a problem’ that he’s been sitting around in this hospital for hours, bought Dave food, and went with him when he got fitted for his cast. Like countless selfless acts of kindness are just no big fucking deal for him. Like he does it all the time.

Dave is starting to believe that might just be the case.

Dave finishes up the other half of his sub and his soup, and is starting on a cookie when the nurse comes in with discharge papers. She gives a similar spiel about the aftercare of concussions that the doctor did, and then asks if Dave has anyone at home who can look after him while he recovers.

Apparently he hit his head...really fucking hard. And they’re not going to let him leave unless he’s got someone to take care of him.

But Dave...doesn’t. Even if he was still with Bro, that asshole wouldn’t care if he was concussed. He’d have him back up on the roof for another round of strifes before Dave could think twice.

But Dave doesn’t even have that much. He’s got a roommate, sure, there’s no fucking way he could afford his apartment by himself, but John was in Washington visiting his dad and wouldn’t be back for another two weeks.

Dave was alone. What was he going to do? Does that mean he’d have to stay here in the hospital until he got the all-clear? There’s no way he can ask Karkat to stay any longer than he already has, but he also doesn’t want to be alone—

Then Karkat speaks up, saying he’ll look after Dave while he heals. Dave’s head whirls around to look at Karkat so fast he feels a joint pop, and the nurse shoots him a look. Dave decidedly ignores it.

“For real?” Dave asks, beyond bewildered. “Wow—that’s...fuck. I was about to say you don’t have to but, uh...I guess you kinda do, huh?”

Dave’s heartbeat kicks up yet again, and he’s once again thankful nobody gets to be aware of that fact except for him. Because wow, it’s happening a lot.

“My roomie is gonna be outta state for the next two weeks, so I guess I got concussed at the perfect time,” Dave says, offering Karkat a cheeky smile, “Guess this means you get to be my little live-in nurse.”

Dave feels his cheeks burn, and he shuts his mouth tightly again. Fuck, he really had no fucking filter when faced with cute boys. And Karkat was going to be around for a while it would seem, making sure Dave didn’t die in his sleep or whatever.

He was so screwed.

-

Karkat grunts. “I’m not a little anything.”

The implications of that statement don’t hit him until he sees Dave’s cheeks darken. Oh god dammit, he didn’t mean it like that. He just meant--fuck. He’s _not_ hitting on Dave, especially not with a line that terrible, even if Dave’s blush creeps over his ears and down his neck all adorably.

The nurse clears her throat, amused, and has Dave sign the discharge papers. Then they make him sit in a wheelchair again as Karkat goes ahead to pull his car around, and then they’re once again in Karkat’s car, but this time Dave is much more conscious and Karkat is much less stressed. “I’m gonna stop by my apartment and pack a bag real quick. And let my roommate know I’ll be gone for a bit,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot. Sollux would probably be overjoyed, not having to fight over the TV in their living room with Karkat. Sollux constantly wants to play games, Karkat constantly wants to watch movies. It’s something of an ongoing war between them. The second Dave’s better and Karkat’s back home he’s putting on Hitch and turning the volume up to the max.

He’s still a bit jumpy while he drives, but he gets to his apartment complex no problem. He glances at Dave and says, “Don’t die while I’m gone.”

It’s not until he’s standing in front of Sollux, a bag slung over his shoulder filled with clothes and toiletries, trying to explain the situation does he realize how batshit crazy he’s being. Sollux laughs at him until he’s gasping and wheezing and Karkat gives him the finger as he stomps out of the apartment.

Offering to take care of a complete stranger? Essentially inviting himself to temporarily live in said stranger’s apartment? What the actual fuck was he thinking? Dave could be an axe murderer or a stalker or any number of things, and here Karkat is, obliviously inviting himself to be murdered or stalked.

And even if Dave isn’t a bad person, what qualifications does Karkat have to take care of anyone? He can barely take care of himself. If anything, waltzing into Dave’s life like this will make it worse, not better. The only reason Karkat has any friends at all is because they’re all just as awful as he is. 

How is it that he sees a cute boy and any brain cells he has immediately go off the clock?

But it’s too late to back out now. Dave doesn’t have anyone to take care of him, and if he dies that’s on Karkat’s conscience. So he talks himself down from a burgeoning panic attack, heads back to his car, and asks Dave for his address. Dave hass put on his sunglasses and Karkat wonders if his head hurts.

-

Karkat grumbles he’s ‘not a little anything’ and that only makes Dave blush even harder than he already was. If he’s daydreaming about Karkat in a puny, barely-fitting nurse outfit while he signs his boring release forms, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

He doesn’t meet the nurse’s or Karkat’s eyes after that, worried the edges would start to blur together and it would just be Karkat standing in front of him in...light blue scrubs. Because obviously the nurse isn’t wearing something kinky because this is a real hospital and she’s a fucking medical professional.

Karkat would probably still look really hot in scrubs, though.

Some time later, Dave is back in Karkat’s car and this time he’s a lot more fucking aware of himself, which is nice. He fucks around with the radio while Karkat drives and Karkat doesn’t bite his head off for it. He keeps waiting for that part—the part where Karkat finally has enough with him and decides Dave isn’t worth all this fucking effort.

Well. They had, what, a week? Plenty of time for Karkat to hate his guts.

They make a stop at Karkat’s apartment and Dave scoffs at Karkat’s comment to not die while he’s gone.

He gives a little two-finger salute with his working hand and says “I’ll try my best.”

He’s feeling a lot more relaxed now that he’s finally out of the hospital, his belly is full of food, his shades are back on and his arm is encased snugly in it’s cool, red cast. He should totally doodle some stuff on it later. Dave’s glad it was his right arm that broke, so that means he can still draw. He certainly had limited options to entertain himself while he was healing, both from the broken arm and the head trauma.

...Okay, well, maybe having zero broken fucking bones would have been ideal, but whatever. But if it had only been a busted arm, Karkat probably wouldn’t be going to all this trouble. So if anything, Dave is glad he got a concussion.

Which is also a pretty fucked up thought to have, but—whatever.

Certainly not the most ideal way to meet cute boys—but certainly a good strategy for keeping them around, feeling sorry for you and doting on you and shit.

...Wow. Dave would say he needed to get his head examined, but he just did.

Karkat comes back to the car and breaks Dave out of his weird reverie, and thank god for that. He asks Dave where he lives, so Dave puts his address into the Maps app and lets good ole Siri lead the way. He’s pretty shit at giving directions. Karkat starts the car back up and they’re off again.

They arrive at Dave's apartment and Dave lets them in, throwing his keys on the counter as he walks inside. He turns to Karkat, who is hovering awkwardly with his bags.

It finally settles in how fucking weird of a scenario this all is, and for once, Dave has no words.

But the silence is killing him, so he clears his throat. “Right, so, uh...like I said, John is gonna be gone for two weeks so you can take his room. Or sleep on the couch. Whatever works better for you.” Dave says, “Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. Uh, you play PlayStation? We got one of those, so like, go nuts. I can’t play myself—doctor’s orders—but, like...if you get bored or whatever, it’s there. Do you wanna like...order some pizza, see what’s on Netflix?”

-

Dave’s apartment is surprisingly clean. Obviously lived in, a little bit messy, but clean overall. There’s no cockroaches running around or mold growing on the ceiling or suspicious stains on the wall. Not that Karkat thought there would be, he just… didn’t know what to expect.

“I’ll take your roommate’s bed,” he agrees, glad he doesn’t have to risk fucking his back up on the couch. Ugh, when did he get _old_?

“Pizza sounds good. Are you still hungry?” He asks, eyeing Dave’s stomach and wondering where he puts it all. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be watching Netflix. How’s your head?”

At least, they didn’t let him watch TV at the hospital. Karkat’s going to have to do some serious research about how to take care of someone with a concussion. They said a bunch of shit at the hospital, even gave Dave a little handout, which seems stupid considering all that tiny print will probably make someone whose head isn’t concussed want to bash their skull in. But Karkat will do that later. For now, he needs to put his bag down (and all of Dave’s shit, which he insisted on carrying, despite Dave’s earnest offer to take something).

“Where should I put all this?” he asks, gesturing to the stuff in his arms.

-

Karkat had only let Dave get his keys out of his bag otherwise insisted on carrying everything in by himself. So he had his own bag of belongings slung over one shoulder, Dave’s backpack on the other, and Dave’s skateboard tucked under one arm. Dave totally could have carried his own shit inside, but as it was already established, Karkat was one persistent fucker. But when Karkat asks where he can put his things, Dave quickly steps over and takes his skateboard and places it by the door.

“This baby usually stays by the front door for easy access,” Dave says, “I’m not gonna be allowed to ride for a while, but I can still look at it all forlorn and wistful every time I step out the door.”

“My room and John’s are just down the hall here,” Dave says, and he starts to go down the small hallway that leads to his and John’s rooms. “You can dump your bag wherever in John’s room. Uh, I’ll change his sheets for you later.”

Yeah. That was probably the right thing to do, for Karkat as well as John. Then he’d change the sheets over again before John got home. Look at him, being a responsible host and respectful roommate, all in one go.

He opens the door to John’s room, and steps aside so Karkat can drop off his bag. “Sorry, his taste in basically everything is fucking abysmal. Can’t do much about the Con-Air posters and shit but I can at least change his geeky ghost sheets out to some of my far superior, much cooler ones.”

Once Karkat dumps his bag on John’s floor, Dave backs out of the doorway so Karkat won’t have to awkwardly squeeze by.

“Right. So, that door right across is my room,” Dave says, nodding his chin towards the door on the other side of the hall. “So, I’ll just, uh...”

He opens the door to his room and then steps toward Karkat and pulls his backpack off Karkat’s shoulder and it is the most awkward exchange Dave has ever had to suffer through. “Yyyep, thanks, I’ll just...”

That was the worst thing ever to do, especially one-handed.

But Dave successfully pulls his bag down off Karkat’s shoulder (wow they’re really broad, ooh fuck) and down his arm (like fucking tree trunks, shit) and then chucks it into his room, where it lands with a thud on his unmade bed. He shuts his door, and heads back down the hallway.

“Bathroom is this one,” Dave says, quickly jumping back into the grand tour to alleviate the weird tension he caused by getting all up in Karkat’s personal space just then. He opens the third door in the hallway, the one before his and John’s bedrooms. “Feel free to leave all your bathroom shit on the sink, there’s plenty of room since John took most of his stuff to his dad’s. I may be a feral idiot but I keep my station clean, so we shouldn’t bump uglies in here too bad.”

Wow, that was a very poor choice of words.

Dave clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, the shower is a little wonky. You have to fuck with the hot and cold a bit to get the right temperature going and if you twist the hot even a smidge too far, you’re suddenly Sméagol jumping into the fires of Mordor after the One Ring. Burnt to a fuckin’ crisp. So be wary of that. But otherwise it’s pretty tight, water pressure doesn’t just feel like someone gently spitting on you. So you win some, you lose some.”

Dave shuts the bathroom door once he realizes he’s probably talked about showers for longer than he needed to, and heads back into the main area.

“That concludes our grand tour. Welcome to Casa Strider—and Egbert. Well, I guess for the time being it’s actually...” Dave trails off when he remembers that he still doesn’t know this cat’s (ha, get it, ‘cause Karkat) name.

Dave holds out his (unbroken) hand to Karkat and tries to throw on his best Strider Smile.

“I know I told you my name already, but that was when I was delirious and slurring my speech due to my mild head trauma, so...name’s Dave Strider. Nice to meet you. Despite the circumstances and all.”

-

As he’s shown around the apartment, Karkat realizes that Dave is… really fucking awkward. He’s fidgety and talkative, he hasn’t taken off his shades even though they’re inside. He keeps walking around and moving like he isn’t injured, trying to do too much.

Not to mention his torrent of words, but Karkat’s getting used to that. And it’s kind of endearing, in a brain-rotting way.

Karkat isn’t looking forward to sleeping with Nic Cage’s weird face leering down at him, and Dave is certifiable if he thinks Karkat will let him wrestle with sheets with a broken arm, but otherwise things here seem… manageable. Karkat can totally do this.

He shakes Dave’s hand and tries not to crush it in his own. Dave has long, delicate fingers and Karkat’s own hand completely eclipses his. Karkat’s adjusted to his height and general… broadness, since it happened when he was a teenager but he doesn’t know if he’ll ever really be used to it. And, now that he’s thinking about it, he realizes that the nurse from before must have been _scared_ of him.

God dammit. Being a loudmouthed asshole had been almost weirdly endearing when he was five foot nothing and weighed maybe a hundred pounds, but as a towering adult man that shit does not fly.

“Karkat Vantas,” he introduces himself, withdrawing his hand at a perfectly reasonable speed and absolutely not lingering like a weirdo. “Sorry I hit you with my car. You mentioned pizza?”

He still has his leftover sub but pizza sounds fucking delightful right now, even if Netflix is off the table. Fuck, what _can_ Dave do? No physical activity, no visual or auditory stimuli. Is he just supposed to exist in a dark room for days on end?

“You don’t put a shit ton of disgusting toppings on your pizza like you do your sandwiches, do you?” Karkat asks with dawning horror. If that’s the case he’ll eat his leftovers and let Dave have at the pizza. Karkat’s not eating anything a black olive touched.

-

Karkat steps forward and takes Dave’s hand and—oh holy mother of god, this guy’s hands were as massive as the rest of him.

Vantas. Huh. That was...as exotic and sexy-weird as his first name. Dave can dig it.

“Water under the bridge,” Dave says, when Karkat apologizes for hitting him with his car. “I’ve already forgotten all about it. Though that might be the concussion talking.”

There’s a small pause, and then Dave quickly says, “I’m kidding, by the way. No memory loss, other than just the usual stuff that was a pre-existing condition that has nothing to do with being concussed. Anyways, yeah. Pizza. Uh, I’m down for literally whatever, so you can get whatever you like on it.”

Karkat had mentioned earlier that Dave wouldn’t be able to do Netflix, since he can’t watch TV. Which also means he can’t even watch Karkat if he played video games or whatever. He also can’t even read. Shit, this meant he probably won’t be able to draw, either. At least not on his tablet. Maybe pen and paper shit would be fine? Does drawing require a lot of brain power? It uses a certain part of your brain, but Dave’s art is honestly pretty stupid so he can’t imagine he’s using that part to it’s full potential.

Karkat handles the pizza-ordering while Dave stands in the kitchen wondering what the hell he can do to not only entertain himself, but Karkat as well. Shit. This might be harder than Dave thought...

Then, a thought springs to Dave’s mind and his head shoots up. That causes a brief dizzy spell, but once he’s over it he crosses the room and goes over to a shelf in the living room.

“Uhh, since TV ain’t an option, how about a board game?” Dave offers, “We can do...Monopoly, as long as you don’t mind playing banker. I’m not good at math even on a good day. I was an art student, so...” Dave trails off, shrugging his good shoulder. He pulls the box off the shelf and sets it down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Yo, Alexa!” Dave shouts.

A little speaker on a cabinet by the TV turns blue, questioningly.

“Play my Ill Beats, Sick Fires playlist.”

Alexa thinks about it for a moment, the blue circle spinning.

“I couldn’t find any playlists called Elite Sinclair.” she says.

“Oh, come the fuck on,” Dave grouses. He digs out his phone from his back pocket, opens Spotify, selects the playlist, and then goes to the devices window and selects Echo Dot. The music starts to play from the speaker.

“See, that wasn’t so goddamn hard, now was it?” Dave mutters, tucking his phone away, then he calls over his shoulder, “How goes it with that pizza?”

-

Dave makes a terrible joke about memory loss and Karkat tries not to be amused by the way he trips over himself to fix it. He wonders briefly about whether or not memory problems are usual for Dave but is distracted rather quickly by having to order pizza. At least Dave isn’t particular about his pizza.

While Karkat makes the call, he watches Dave pull out Monopoly. Ah. Going for the friendship-ruiner right away, then. Might be a smart idea, it’ll dispel any notions Dave may have that he’s a decent person. The last time he and his friends played Monopoly Tavros ended up in the hospital and Terezi made them roleplay a court case afterwards.

Karkat isn’t as bad as _that_ , but he’s flipped a board or two in his time.

He orders two pepperoni pizzas and a two liter of soda as Dave fights with Alexa to play whatever music he’s intent on putting on. Karkat gives his card info so Dave doesn’t try to pay or something stupid like that, and hangs up. His bank account is going to be hurting but it’s fine. He gets paid this week anyway.

Actually… what the fuck is he supposed to do about work? Dave is obviously not going in, if Karkat has anything to say about it, but Karkat needs that money and he doesn’t want to get fired for taking off so suddenly. He’ll have to ask around, see if anyone is willing to cover his shifts, and offer to take some of theirs next week.

That’s going to be exhausting but it’s his own fault for getting himself into this situation. 

“Should be here in 45 minutes,” he tells Dave. He takes a seat on the couch and says, “I call the little dog.”

He snatches his piece up before Dave can argue and sets about passing out the starting money. 

“You got any house rules?” Karkat asks, aware that the way his friends play Monopoly is not standard under any conditions. It’s been so long since he played by the actual rules he’s not sure if he remembers them at this point.

-

Karkat gets off the phone and announces that pizza will be there in 45 minutes. Cool. Dave will be good and hungry again by then.

Dave smiles brightly when Karkat agrees to Monopoly and calls dibs on the little dog. That really shouldn’t make Dave’s heart squeeze like it does.

“That’s fine, I always play with the top hat, anyway.” Dave says, grabbing a pillow off the couch and settling down on the floor, so they can sit across from each other.

Karkat asks about house rules. Oh, so he’s that kind of player, huh? Fuck yes, this game could take them hours. Perfect.

“Honestly, me and John have played Monopoly once since we moved in together, got bored after like, an hour, and watched movies instead.” Dave says, already setting up the money Karkat hands him into neat, colour-coded piles. He needs all the help he can get when it comes to anything involving numbers. Best to stay organized. “Our main thing was making it two houses instead of four before you can buy hotels, because it took too fucking long to do and we were impatient. But since we’re trying to make this game last I’ll say you can fuck it up with as many house rules as your heart desires and I’ll do my best to keep up.”

-

Karkat’s used to fist fights breaking out over who gets to be what piece, so he eyes Dave suspiciously when he lets Karkat claim the small dog without hesitation. Instinct tells him this is a trick somehow, but he has to remind himself that not everyone is as batshit as his friends.

“I’ve never actually played one on one before,” Karkat admits, placing the cards down. “Some of our rules might not apply.”

He wonders if this counts as mental exertion. But if Dave starts feeling any pain they can stop, and besides, Karkat hasn’t won a game of Monopoly in a really long time.

“Okay, first off: cheating is okay, as long as you don’t get caught,” he says. “If someone notices you go to jail unless you can justify what you did with an in-game reason that sways everyone to your side. Usually we’d hold a vote but since there’s only two of us that probably won’t work.”

He chews on his lip, considering what other rules to add to this game. Terezi has a binder dedicated to their rules, typed up on her special braille typewriter. When Karkat bitched about how no one else could read it she shut him down with a ‘now you know how I feel,’ and a sharp grin.

“Each player has to accept _and_ offer a trade at some point in the game,” he continues, then digs around in his pocket and pulls out a quarter, placing it on the coffee table. “Everyone gets one chance to do anything. You have to announce what you intend to do first, then flip the coin. If it’s heads you succeed, tails you lose. Wanna steal a house from everyone on the board? Rob the bank? Burn down someone’s hotel? If you get heads you’re able to.”

He hums a bit, thinking. “No making money off your properties when you’re in jail. If you get a shitty roll you’re allowed to re-do it once per game.”

He leans back, tapping his fingers on his knee. “I think that’s enough for right now. Oh, wait. Winner gets to add a new rule to try for the next game or dare one of the losers to do something. Although since you’re concussed we should probably forget that last part. Any questions?”

-

Dave listens to Karkat explains the house rules, and he is fucking enraptured. His mouth starts off hanging open slightly in awe but as Karkat keeps talking his face pulls into a bigger and bigger smile until Dave leaning intently forward with a shit-eating grin.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” Dave finally says when Karkat finishes his spiel. “A fucking coin toss? That is fucking genius. I never even thought about robbing the bank, not to mention committing fucking arson. This ain’t Monopoly—this is goddamn Pandemonium.”

Dave sits back and goes over the rules one more time in his head—or tries to, anyway. He isn’t sure how much thinking is too much thinking when you’re concussed.

“Okay, trading and making offers and shit is pretty standard. Me and John did a lot of that when we played.” Dave says, “So that’s easy to remember. Coin toss to commit debauchery. Cool, cool. No making money on shit when you’re in jail. And a one-time shitty roll do-over. And cheating is cool, just be sneaky about it. Awesome. I’m guessing all the regular rules apply, too, like getting to try and roll doubles to get out of jail, and shit like that? What about putting a money pool in Free Parking?”

-

Dave’s face breaks into a beaming smile and Karkat tries to ignore the way it makes his stomach flutter and heart pound. He’s pretty sure there’s a blush spreading on his face but he absolutely can’t help it, not with Dave grinning at him like that. Karkat wishes he’d take off those stupid sunglasses so he can see what Dave’s eyes look like when he’s so fucking excited.

Karkat can _not_ get a fucking crush on the guy he almost killed. He doesn’t know if Dave is interested in guys, for one, and secondly Karkat is still holding out hope for finding his soulmate. One day words are going to bloom across his skin and he’ll know who he’s meant for, and he highly doubts it’s Dave Strider. Dave, who is funny and attractive, who has freckles dappling his skin and a smile like a sunrise, not to mention the most mesmerizing red eyes.

Who fucking apologized for being hit with a car and offered to pay for the damages.

Karkat’s soulmate is undoubtedly someone just as bitter and angry as himself. And probably not a knockout like Dave is.

Dave’s questions bring him back to himself and he makes himself focus on the game.

“Rolling doubles yes, Free Parking no,” he says, vividly remembering the time Vriska had a streak of luck and Aradia punched her in the jaw. “Too tempting and controversial.”

He hands Dave the die and says, “You go first.”

Typically they’d roll to see who goes first, but Dave is concussed and he’d let Karkat have the little dog without a fight, so it’s only fair.

-

Karkat hands Dave the dice, and the game is fucking on.

“Hell fucking yeah, my dude, let’s get this fucking bread,” Dave chants as he tries his best to rattle the dice in one hand (he normally likes to shake the shit out of them with both hands—it adds to the experience, especially when he’s first to roll).

The dice clatter across the table and Dave gives a little whoop in triumph. “Doubles right off the bat, baby! I knew my luck was fucking good today.”

Dave moves the little silver top hat six spaces and lands on Oriental Avenue.

“Buy, buy, buy,” Dave says, already waggling a coloured bill under Karkat’s nose.

Dave’s strategy was to just buy whatever the fuck he landed on and try to rake in as many properties as possible. It would cost him an arm and a fucking leg at the start of the game, but once people started to land on his properties he would be swimming in candy-coloured money in no time. And his luck was good today, so he’s gonna pull out all the stops.

Karkat hands him the change from his bill and hands Dave the card for Oriental, and Dave smacks it down with fervour, jostling his neat stacks of money slightly.

“I am now a land-owner,” Dave announces, “well, a home-owner. Fuck, or just a deed-owner, I guess. Gotta buy up the rest of the light blue shit before I can claim this land in the name of Dave and coat that board with tiny houses that bring certain death. Especially when you step on them. That shit is worse than Lego. But I got my eye on those two dark blue babies right over yonder. Not to mention the railroads. And the Electric Company. And Water Works. You control those, and you’re a fucking god. Alright, dude, you’re up.”

-

Dave immediately buys Oriental Avenue after rolling doubles and Karkat rolls his eyes. He’s clearly playing with a rookie here. Oriental Avenue is one of the least landed on spots of the game.

He tries his damndest not to grin at Dave’s spiel but only partially succeeds, lips twitching up at the corners. He doesn’t know how Dave is so excitable right now. Isn’t he in pain? But it’s really fucking endearing, and Karkat decides not to give him shit about his strategy.

“It’s still your turn, dumbass,” he says. “Doubles mean you roll again. Three doubles in a row and you go to jail.”

Then it hits him, what Dave said about his luck, and he gapes at him. “Your luck is _good_ today? How are you still even alive and walking if today constitutes as lucky?”

-

“Oh fuck, you’re so right, my fuckin’ bad,” Dave says, grabbing up the dice and rolling again. “Phew, okay, that’s nine.”

He moves the hat across the board, and grins when he lands on Pennsylvania Railroad. “Hell yessss, see? What’d I fucking tell you? Good luck all around in this bitch.”

As Dave and Karkat exchange money for the Railroad, he flashes Karkat a little smirk.

“Dude, my luck is on fire today. I’m the luckiest fucker in the United States,” Dave puts his Railroad card beside his Oriental card and then holds up his hand.

He brings up a finger one at a time as he starts to rattle off a list, “I got to get off work early today. I finally mastered a board trick I’ve been trying to get down for fucking weeks. And when I went to go snap a pic of me nailing the trick, I ran into you. Well, technically you ran into me. Then I got whisked away to the hospital, didn’t have to pay out the ass for the weewoo wagon, and scored this sweet red cast that I get to doodle dicks all over for the next few weeks. I had a delicious lunch, we got pizza coming in less than an hour, and now I’m playing what’s going to be the most legendary round of Monopoly ever with a really cu—cool guy.”

Dave feels his ears burn and his heart hammers in his chest in panic from his near-slip up, and he clears his throat.

“So, yeah. I’d say I’m pretty fucking lucky.”

-

“Are you sure you don’t have brain damage?” Karkat asks, desperately trying to control his blush. He thought that Dave was about to say _cute,_ but maybe Karkat’s the one who needs to get his head checked; no one would ever refer to him as cute. “I’m the furthest thing from cool you’ll ever have the misfortune to encounter.”

He grabs the dice and rolls, getting an 8 and landing on Vermont. He smirks, dropping the $100 just to make sure Dave doesn’t get a monopoly. The light blue spaces aren’t much of a threat but if Dave’s luck is really ‘good’ today he’s not taking any chances. He’s friends with Vriska, after all.

“Are you really going to draw dicks on your cast?” he asks doubtfully, staring at the bright red plastered around Dave’s arm. He passes the dice back to Dave.

-

Karkat thinks Dave would need to be brain damaged in order to think he’s cool. The thought makes Dave’s brow pull together and his lips pucker out in deep confusion.

Well, if Dave was brain damaged, Karkat must be fucking blind. He was fucking massive, built like a shit brickhouse, could probably benchpress Dave like fifty times before breaking a sweat—

The thought makes Dave remember how Karkat had just...picked him up off the street and out of his car to carry him into the hospital and his heart flutters a bit. Karkat could totally pick him up and press him into a wall and—

Whoooa. Easy now, cowboy.

Dave pushes his gay-as-fuck thoughts from his brain and grabs the dice from Karkat after he buys up Vermont.

“Dude, are you kidding? You are totally fucking cool, come on. Even if you’re a mean fucker who just yoinked my monopoly from me less than five turns in. You’re a man who plays to win, I can dig it.”

Dave rattles the dice and chucks them, getting a seven. He lands on a Chance space and picks up a card from the pile.

“Let’s see...’Bank error in your favour. Collect $75’,” Dave grins and waggles the card at Karkat, “You heard the card, Mr. Banker Man! Hand over the moolah.”

Karkat hands him $75 out of the ‘bank’ and Dave snatches it up and places it with the rest of his money.

“Thank you, my good man.” Dave says, chipper as fuck. He passes the dice back to Karkat. “Anyway, the fuck was I talking about—oh right—yeah, dude, you’re like...one of the coolest people I’ve ever met, straight up. Not a lot of people would have done even half the shit you did today, for one thing. But other than that, you’re like—I mean, look at you. You probably have muscles in your shit. Okay, that was pretty gross, even for me. But what I’m trying to say is, you’re fuckin’ solid, bro. I’d say we should see how many times you could bench press me but that probably counts as a ‘strenuous activity’ so I guess that’s off the table—“

(HolyshitSTOPTALKING—)

“But yeah you’re like—I dunno, you just—you got guns. Look at those fucking arms. You could split me in half—“

(It’s getting worse—)

The next words come out of Dave fast and practically mumbled. “Alsoyoujustseemprettyfunny andchillandIknowweliterallyjust metbutyouarefuntohangoutwith.”

Dave is bright fucking red by the time his tangent is finally brought to a grinding halt.

-

The longer Dave talks the redder his face becomes and it’s really fucking adorable. Even if his own face probably matches, Karkat can’t help but watch as the color slips down Dave’s neck, disappearing under his shirt. He wonders how far down it goes, what it would be like to find out and--

No. No, Karkat isn’t doing this. He’s not. He has a bad habit of falling into shitty relationships with anyone who gives him the time of day and ruins them every time. Even if Dave’s apparent attraction to him somehow isn’t the result of vision impairment or a head injury, Karkat is supposed to be taking care of him. Because he fucking ran Dave down in the street.

Even _if_ Dave is so light that it would be no effort at all to swoop him up and keep him steady while--NO.

Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with him today?

“You weigh like 80 pounds soaking wet; anyone could bench press you,” he says after clearing his throat. His face still feels red-hot. “And you need to reevaluate the people you know if you think anything I’ve done today has been more than basic human decency.”

Okay, well, maybe offering to room with a stranger you almost murdered was a bit more than what most people would do, but it’s what most people _should_ do, and that’s what counts, really.

He rolls the dice, gets a 9, and lands on community chest. He groans, grabs a card, and groans louder. 

“Fucking go to jail. What the fuck, it’s my second turn,” he grumbles, sending his little dog to prison. “This is homophobic.” 

He passes the dice back to Dave, biting the inside of his cheek, and says, “You’re not bad to hang out with either. When you’re not delirious, anyway.”

Fuck, he should probably stop bringing that up.

-

Most of the time when people commented on how light and skinny Dave was, he would get defensive. It’s not like he asked to be skinny. In fact, he wished he could get some actual meat on his bones. But, you spend the first eighteen years of your life having to hide food around the house in order to get anything and not look fucking malnourished.

But, somehow, when Karkat says it...Dave has to fucking hold back a choked off, helpless sound. He covers it up by clearing his throat and scratching roughly at his nose. God, he is so fucking hopelessly attracted to this guy, it’s honestly bordering on dangerous at this point.

Looks like Karkat still seems to think all he’s done today is just basic human decency. Karkat says Dave needs to reevaluate the people he knows and, well—maybe he’s got a point there.

But, either way, Karkat didn’t need to go out of his way like this. Keeping Dave company, looking after him. It’s...way fucking more than Dave deserves, really. And he’s not sure if he even has the words to tell Karkat how grateful he really is.

Those sappy, sentimental thoughts get pulled from his mind when he watches Karkat get a community chest and groan with irritation. Dave finds himself grinning, even though he feels a bit bad that Karkat has to go to jail so soon. Karkat’s kind of adorable as fuck when he’s grouchy. And he’s sort of in a constant state of grouchiness, with like a dimmer-switch that determines the level of grouchiness he is at any given time. Groaning about getting a shitty community chest in Monopoly? Cute as fuck. When he shot that nurse a dirty look back at the hospital?

Hot as fuck.

Dave perks up like a fucking dog that just spotted a squirrel across the yard when Karkat says homophobic.

Did...was he...?

So Karkat was into guys?

Holy shit. Was Dave’s “always falls for the straight boy” curse finally lifted, at long last, after all these fucking years? This really was his lucky day.

Karkat says he’s fun to hang out with, too—well not quite in those words but damn if it doesn’t make Dave blush like an anime schoolgirl anyway because wow he really has it bad.

“Glad to hear it,” Dave forces out, trying to sound casual.

He rolls the dice, and gets seven. He places his top hat on Marvin Gardens, and buys the deed, tucking it partially under the board with the rest of his property deeds.

“I don’t know about delirious, but I’ve been told I’m a pretty fun drunk.” Dave says as he hands the dice back to Karkat. “Though I’m sure alcohol is off the table, too. This concussion is determined to take away all my favourite past-times. But this is really fun so far. We should make up a bunch of crazy rules for all the board games I have and just wreak havoc.”

-

Karkat scowls as Dave brings up alcohol, but perks up slightly at the mention of other games.

“You are absolutely not getting drunk until a doctor clears you,” he declares. “But we could play more board games. I don’t have any house rules for anything other than monopoly. My friends get together every month to play. You should play sometime.”

He clamps his mouth shut. Why would he suggest that? His friends are fucking idiots on their best behavior, let alone when Monopoly is involved. And even though Dave said he was fun to hang out with he probably doesn’t mean it. Not in a way where he’ll want to be friends after this clusterfuck of a situation is over.

Karkat is getting way too attached way too quickly, as per fucking usual.

“Uh,” he says eloquently, trying to dig his way out of this hole. “How many board games do you have?”

He posts bail and springs his tiny dog from prison, then rolls another nine, landing him on New York Avenue. Fuck yes. He buys it and claims the card, passing the dice back to Dave. He tries very hard not to think about how small Dave’s hand is compared to his own.

-

Dave doesn’t pout or anything when Karkat says he’s not allowed to drink until he’s better. Instead, his heart gives another affectionate little squeeze. Man, Karkat was really taking this whole live-in nurse thing seriously. Not that Dave doubted he would for a second—Karkat was a pretty intense dude.

And there was nothing wrong with that, as far as Dave was concerned. He could get used to Karkat’s gruff, but concerned bedside manner. It was endearing as hell.

“Yessir, no drinkypoos for Davey. Loud n’ clear,” he says, giving a little two-finger salute.

He was trying to play off how warm and tingly his insides were getting, but then Karkat had to go and mention the idea of Dave playing board games with Karkat’s friends.

The thought of getting to keep hanging out with Karkat when this was all over, even after Dave was all healed, makes butterflies start to have seizures in his stomach.

Then Karkat asks about Dave’s other board games, and Dave is thankful for the change in topic so he can talk about something mundane.

“Uh, I’ve got Risk, Life, Connect 4, Yahtzee, Scrabble...all the classics, natch.” Dave says, “I got the expanded box of Cards Against Humanity, but that doesn’t really work with just two people...but I’ve got just a regular deck of cards, so we’ve also got shit like Crazy Eights, and War. Me and John kept a game of War going for hours one time. Lost track of how many times we got through the whole deck. We played until the fucking sun came up.”

Dave rolls his dice, and pouts. A fucking two. He isn’t about to use his one-time reroll so early in the game, though, so he moves his top hat over to Pacific Avenue and scoops up the deed.

“So you manage to get all your friends together to play this every month? That’s awesome. Me and John have a campaign going with a couple of friends and we haven’t played for months. Schedules just don’t line up. So it’s cool your friends make it work. I’d totally be down to play sometime.”

Wow. Way to try and just insert yourself even more into this dude’s life, Strider.

Dave hands the dice back to Karkat and tries to keep his expression casual, glad the shades leave a lot to the imagination.

-

Karkat rolls his eyes at Dave’s baby talk and pretends that his pout isn’t super fucking cute. He listens intently as Dave talks about his friends, relieved that he has some. The way he’d been talking before made it sound like Dave didn’t really have anyone in his life. Karkat’s friends drive him up the wall but he’d rather gnaw his hand off before having to deal with just himself.

When Dave says he’d be willing to play with Karkat’s friends he looks up from the board, surprised. He sees his own stupid grin reflected back at him in Dave’s shades and tries to get his expression under control. It only works a little bit.

“Yeah, we get together the first friday of every month,” he says, trying to sound casual. “It’s rare that everyone can make it but as long as two people are there the Monopoly board comes out. Terezi even made extra tokens and shit so more than six people can play at a time. They look god awful--Terezi’s blind--and it takes like twenty minutes to agree on who gets to play as what, but it’s a fun time.”

The idea of bringing Dave to meet his friends has him buzzing with excitement. Karkat doesn’t make friends that easily--shocker--but when he does they’re likely going to stick around for awhile. And he can imagine Dave amongst his friends so easily; he’d fit right in, with his tangential ramblings and lack of filter.

“They’re all fucking certifiable but as long as you can handle it when Kanaya tries to throw someone out a window you should be fine,” he says, then realizes that Dave is still waiting for him to take his turn. 

He rolls an eight and scoops up Ventnor avenue, successfully blocking Dave from getting another color set. Nice.

-

When Dave says he’s interested in playing board games with his friends, Karkat’s head shoots up and Dave’s heart drops into his stomach at the smile on Karkat’s face.

Karkat has...a really nice smile.

It’s gone within seconds, and Karkat looks a bit caught off-guard, like he didn’t mean to smile. Dave wants to see him smile all the time, wants to try and get him to laugh so he can see it again. Then Karkat goes into a bit more about his friend’s game night, and now Dave is the one grinning. Karkat’s friends sound like a rowdy fucking bunch, which is totally Dave’s shit. He tried to mesh with the “cool kids” when he was younger, and what a fucking mistake that was. A bunch of fucking posers, the lot of them. It definitely gave Dave an insight into what a dumbass he looked like, trying to fit the mould Bro tried to stuff him into.

But anyone who clicks with Karkat is definitely going to be someone Dave can vibe with.

“Sounds like a good fuckin’ time,” Dave comments lightly, “as long as that Kanaya chick doesn’t try to defenestrate me, that is. I’ll make sure not to get on her bad side.”

He can’t believe he’s talking like meeting Karkat’s friend is just...an inevitability. Like the two of them are a couple, or something. The thought makes Dave’s cheek burn. God, there really was something wrong with him. How come thinking about Karkat pinning him against a wall and having his way with him didn’t get Dave’s heart racing nearly as much as the simple thought of getting to be Karkat’s boyfriend.

Karkat makes Dave completely forget about the concept of soulmates. His words have yet to show up, so obviously he hasn’t met the right person. His Bro had never found his soulmate—Dave had never seen any words on his arms—and Dave is convinced it’s part of the reason his brother was such a cold, hateful asshole. Left alone with no soulmate and a weak little brother he had to take care of. He took it all out on Dave.

Dave wonders if his family is cursed. That Striders aren’t meant to have soulmates. Striders didn’t need anyone but themselves, so what was the point? They were destined to be alone.

Dave really hopes that’s not true.

He doesn’t want to wind up like his brother.

Dave sees that Karkat has taken yet another colour set from him, and pulls himself out of his depressing thoughts. Come on, he was supposed to be having fun right now, quit thinking about Bro—

“You son of a bitch!” Dave cries indignantly, “Oh it’s on, motherfucker, gimme them dice.”

Karkat hands the dice over, looking smug as shit. Dave rattles his dice and quickly drops them on the table. Six. Dave gasps.

“Fuck YEAH! Motherfuckin’ Park Place, motherfuckerrrr!” Dave cheers, slapping his top hat down and quickly rifling through his money to hand the right amount to Karkat for the deed. “I swear to god, dude, if you land on Boardwalk and steal that from me, too...I will go to great lengths to trade. I have no shame.”

-

Dave lands on Park Place and absolutely rubs it in Karkat's face, but Karkat can’t stop grinning smugly at him. If Dave does come play with him and his friends he’s going to get absolutely trounced; Park Place is another one of the less frequent spaces. 

Karkat rolls two sixes, which puts him just past boardwalk. Shame; he wanted to see what exactly Dave was willing to trade. He takes $200 for passing go and buys Mediteranean Avenue anyway; it’s a cheap property.

“Keeping on Kanaya’s good side is probably for the best,” Karkat muses. “She can be pretty fucking scary when she wants to be. She’s a fashion designer and she keeps fucking giving me ‘stylish’ clothes, and since she makes them herself I can’t even say no. The one time I did I thought she was gonna skewer me alive.”

He wears them to game nights and whenever he knows he’ll see her. It’s not like the clothes are even _bad_ , he just much prefers his comfortable sweaters. And no matter how talented Kanaya is, it’s going to take more than some clothes to make him look less like a bridge troll. 

“What are your friends like?” he asks, realizing that all he’s been doing is talking about himself. Ugh, so self-centered, as usual. He passes the dice back to Dave as he silently scolds himself, then wonders why it even matters. It’s not like this is a date.

Then he’s thinking about dating Dave, and his heart pounds in his ears. He wants to groan and bury his head in his hands but instead he chews on his lips and waits for Dave to take his turn.

-

Dave is very intrigued by these stylish clothes this Kanaya person makes for Karkat, and now he’s even more excited about the chance to get to go to his friend’s game nights if it means he gets to see Karkat in something other than a loose sweater and sweatpants. Karkat clearly has a hella bod and it’s a damn shame he hides it under those loose-fitting clothes. He looks comfy as fuck, but like...come on. If you got it, you should flaunt it.

Karkat asks about Dave’s friends as he hands Dave back the dice, and Dave is happy to gush about them. He doesn’t have many, but Dave believes in quality over quantity. And he’s pretty sure his friends are the most fucking quality.

“Well, there’s John. My roommate, and best fucking friend since I was thirteen. He moved here from Washington for school, and I was, uh—“

Getting kicked to the curb by my brother and needed a place to live—

“Uhh, looking for a new roommate. My last one was a dick—“

Technically not a lie.

“So me and John moved in together. He’s a goofball with shit taste in movies. But he’s like a brother to me.”

More than the actual one.

“Then there’s Jade, and Rose. Rose is like...the group therapist. She keeps us all in check. And Jade is like the heart of the group. She’s like this ball of sunshine, but she’d also throw the fuck down for you if need be.”

Dave rolls his dice, and gets five. He lands on the community chest just past Mediterranean Ave and draws a card.

“You have won second prize in a beauty contest. Collect $10.” Dave reads out loud, and then he scoffs. “Pretty shit beauty contest, but I’ll take the ten bucks. Plus my $200 for passing Go.”

Karkat hands over the bills and Dave tucks it away. Just then there’s a knock at the door and Dave springs up to answer it. The pizza guy is standing there with two steaming boxes and a plastic bag with a large bottle of soda. Karkat quickly joins Dave at the door and grabs everything from the pizza man before Dave can.

Dave thanks the pizza guy and then shuts the door, heading over to the kitchen to grab some plates. It’s a little awkward to grab two plates out of the cupboard one-handed, but he manages. He’s not completely helpless, and doesn’t want Karkat to feel like he has to do fucking everything.

Karkat opens the first box and Dave sighs at the smell of fresh baked dough, pizza sauce and pepperoni. Dave puts one plate down on the counter and hands the other to Karkat.

“Thanks for grabbing the ‘za. I can transfer you some cash later. I don’t expect you to keep buying me food. In fact, I won’t fucking have it. Save your money, dude.” Dave says, picking out two slices and dropping them on his plate.

He goes back over to the cupboard and reaches up on his toes to grab some glasses. “Do you want ice?”

-

Dave gets excited again as he talks about his friends, talking almost as much with his one free hand as he does with his mouth. Karkat finds his lips turning up into a small smile as Dave describes his friends. There’s something off about the explanation of his last roommate, but Karkat isn’t here to pry, even if he is incredibly curious.

“They sound like good people,” Karkat says. He wants to ask what role Dave fills in the group. John, the best friend; Rose, the therapist; Jade, the heart. Where does Dave fit in amongst these people? It’s none of his business but Karkat wants to know.

He doesn’t ask. They’re getting along well enough now, but it’s likely Dave will tire of him long before they meet any of each other’s friends. He can imagine it clearly, Dave rambling about how Karkat’s just too much of an asshole-- _thanks man, really, this was uh great and all but you really shouldn’t have._ Really _shouldn’t have, please let’s never see each other again. Thanks bro._

Maybe Dave wouldn’t say it like that but it’s what he’d mean. 

Karkat’s so lost in thought he almost misses Dave’s turn, but when he reads the card off Karkat raises an eyebrow. Dave would undoubtedly win first place and many hearts in any beauty contest he entered. Luckily Karkat has the common sense not to say so out loud. 

The pizza arrives and Dave jumps up, moving quickly to the door like if he’s fast enough Karkat won’t follow him. He’s mistaken, however, and Karkat is next to him in an instant, grabbing all of it before Dave can even reach a hand out.

Dave struggles with getting plates and Karkat frowns. He doesn’t know why Dave even got up in the first place. He’s supposed to be resting. Karkat could have brought him a plate. But he doesn’t interfere because Dave seems determined, eyebrows tugging down below the sunglasses that he’s _still wearing_.

“You’re not paying me back for shit,” Karkat scowls. “I’m gonna be eating your food for the next week or so. Consider this preemptive payback for that if you have to.”

Dave’s reactions have Karkat wondering if he’s being the weird one here. Dave seems pretty insistent that Karkat’s gone above and beyond, but he’s honestly baffled by the notion. What was he supposed to do, let Dave die in the street? Call him an ambulance he couldn’t afford? The medical bills already are likely to be astronomical. 

“Ice would be good, thanks,” Karkat says, taking the opportunity to pour them both some soda before Dave tries to do so with one hand.

“How’s your head feeling?” he asks as they wander back into the living room. Karkat plops back onto the couch, closer to the side so Dave can sit on the couch as well while they eat and not be smothered by Karkat’s presence. “Any pain?”

He takes a bite of his pizza and moans. That little half sub definitely didn’t fill him up earlier, and Karkat skipped lunch because they were so swamped at work. He’s fucking starving, and delicious warm gooey pizza is exactly what he needs.

-

Karkat refuses Dave’s offer to pay him back, and Dave opens his mouth to argue it but then Karkat makes the point that he’d be eating Dave’s food for the next week and Dave figures that’s a fairly decent trade-off. He shrugs, and doesn’t hound Karkat on the issue any farther. He plops the glasses on the counter and Karkat fills them up with soda while Dave pops open the freezer. He and John both hated fucking with the ice trays, so they always had two full ice trays and then a large bowl full of loose ice cubes in the freezer, and they’d refill the bowl using the trays whenever it went empty. The bowl is still full of cubes, and thank god for that because there’s no way Dave could deal with the ice trays right now. If he was alone, with a little determination he could probably do it. But he doesn’t want for stupid shit like ice.

They bring their food and drinks back into the living room and Dave is about to go back to his cushion on the floor when he notices Karkat gives room for Dave to join him on the couch. Dave feels his heart flicker, but plops down in the seat next to Karkat as casually as he can muster. Then Karkat fucking gives a cute little moan when he takes bite of his pizza and Dave wants to bury his head into the couch cushions and scream. Karkat suddenly asks how he’s feeling, and right. Yes. Of course. The whole reason Karkat was here in the first place.

“I’m good,” Dave says, “had a pretty gnarly headache earlier, but I feel better now that I’ve got my shades on. I was already, uh, pretty light-sensitive before, so the concussion kinda like, amplified that.” He doesn’t really like talking about his eye condition very much, but he figures he ought to know about anything pre-existing like that if he’s gonna be looking after Dave for awhile.

“Pain is at maybe...I dunno, a one or two, maybe?” Dave had a pretty high pain tolerance. Years of practice, he thinks bitterly before continuing, “I’ve still got those fancy hospital painkillers in my system, though, so I’ll let you know in a couple hours if that number goes up. But as of right now, I’m feeling pretty good.”

Dave takes a bite of his pizza, and then looks over at Karkat. “What about you?” Dave asks.

Karkat was technically in a...would it be considered a car accident? Dave can’t imagine hitting someone with your car is a very relaxing experience. They’ve both had a pretty crazy evening. He’s sure Karkat is just being the super cool, decent guy he is by not dumping his shit on Dave, but he’s gotta be panicking on the inside, right? Dave probably would be, if he was in Karkat’s position.

-

Dave drops himself onto the couch ungracefully, much closer than Karkat thought he would. Not that he has a problem with it, it’s just unexpected. Maybe Dave didn’t have as large of a personal space bubble as most people. 

Then Dave mentions being light sensitive and Karkat feels like a fucking idiot. He has bright red eyes, of course they’re going to be sensitive. Karkat wonders if Dave is some form of albino, but keeps that shit to himself. It’s none of his business and he’d be rude as fuck to ask about it. Karkat wouldn’t want Dave prying into his medical bullshit. 

At least it explains the shades.

A one or a two on the pain scale seems really low, though, even with the painkillers in his system, but Karkat takes him at his word. He’s surprised when Dave asks about him.

“I’m fine?” Karkat replies, confused. He takes another bite, enjoying the warmth filling his belly. “I had my seatbelt on, so I’ll maybe have a bruise or something, but I’m not in any pain.”

It could have been way worse, on both their sides. Karkat’s airbag hadn’t even gone off, and Dave is upright and talking. If it weren’t for the cast and the bandage on his forehead Karkat wouldn’t know he’d been hurt at all, with the way he’s talking and moving around. The sunglasses do even more to hide it. 

It wouldn’t be hard to pretend that they’re actually friends; that Karkat came over to play some board games and eat pizza and listen to Dave talk until the early hours of the morning. That Karkat isn’t here to make sure Dave doesn’t die in the middle of the night because Karkat was stupid and careless and Dave paid the price.

-

Karkat says he’s fine, and seems to be pretty puzzled by Dave even asking him in the first place. Dave gives Karkat a once over, which is easy to do behind his shades without getting caught staring.

Karkat seems relaxed enough, just sitting there eating his pizza. Dave goes back to looking at his own slice of pizza before Karkat can notice he’s staring.

“That’s good,” Dave says once he swallows his bite, “I’m glad you didn’t like, hurt your neck or whatever. That woulda sucked. Sorry if you get a bruise, though.”

-

Is Dave… How is he even real? Karkat is legitimately, honestly, totally flabbergasted. He finishes his pizza and puts his plate aside, then turns to give Dave his full attention. 

“Dave,” he says seriously. “Are you for fucking real right now? You have a broken arm and a head wound that’s serious enough to require observation. Because of something I did. And you’re _sorry if I get a bruise_?”

He shakes his head, lips quirking up at the corners.

“You’re completely fucking ridiculous. It’s probably _my_ lucky day, because if I’d hit anyone else I would be in the middle of a mental breakdown right now and getting sued to hell and back, not eating pizza and playing Monopoly.”

Karkat bites his lip, thinking. “You’ve said thanks and sorry a bunch of times so far but you haven’t--you haven’t even yelled at me or called me an asshole or anything. Aren’t you _mad_?”


	2. Chapter 2

Karkat says his name in such a way that has a shudder rolling up Dave’s back. It’s not the same as the ice-cold shiver he got when his brother called him by name (instead of little man or kid) but he still shrinks in on himself a bit.

But Dave slowly retracts the more Karkat speaks and looks over at Karkat curiously when he notices the other is...smiling? It’s faint, but it’s there. A small, amused, exasperated pull of the mouth as Karkat shakes his head.

Karkat thinks Dave should be mad? Should be yelling at him? Dave squirms in his chair a bit as he looks away, down at the pizza slice he’s only taken one bite out of so far.

“Nah, it’s chill,” Dave mumbles, “Like I said, it was my bad. I should’ve made sure nobody was coming. Or, like...just not have been trying to take a picture in the middle of the street like that in the first place.”

He takes a small bite of pizza to busy his mouth for a moment so he doesn’t go off on a nonsensical tangent due to nerves.

“I don’t usually yell at people, dude. It takes a lot to set me off, and trust me, I really don’t think you of all people are gonna be the thing that makes that happen.” Dave says quietly, “Why the hell would I be mad when you’ve been nothing but nice to me?”

He trails off and the silence hangs in the air for a moment longer than Dave would like so he clears his throat thickly.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he says, back to his normal volume, “you are an asshole for snatching up two of the colour sets I was going for, but I’m not mad at you.”

Dave sets down his pizza and holds out his fist to Karkat in the universal sign for an offer to bump it.

“So let’s just put all that shit behind us and just focus on having some fun this week, yeah?” Dave says, “Let those bygones just do their thing. Let those fibbing dogs catch some Zs. All that shit.”

-

Karkat said something wrong. It’s obvious in the slope of Dave’s shoulders, the way he ever so slightly curls in on himself, how his voice gets soft. Making himself smaller in every way. Karkat’s heart gives a guilty squeeze. Can he not do anything right?

Dave’s intent on thinking it’s his fault, apparently. And yeah, maybe fucking around in the middle of the street was stupid, but _Karkat_ was the one behind the wheel. He should have been paying attention.

And Dave thinks Karkat’s _nice_. That opinion will obviously change in the coming days, but the fact he thinks it at all is throwing up red flags all over the place. It’s glaringly obvious that Dave’s been mistreated in the past--by his family? Friends? That old roommate?--but Karkat doesn’t know what to do about it. 

Dave forcibly returns to his previous volume, slowly loosening his posture, and sticks his fist out. Karkat stares at it for a moment before he rolls his eyes, and reaches his own fist out to bump it.

The action sends a slight jolt up his arm, leaving his skin tingling pleasantly. His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment he wonders… but Dave’s face doesn’t change; he gives no sign that he felt anything at all, so Karkat’s probably just imagining it like a desperate fool.

There’s no way someone like Dave would be his soulmate, anyway.

“Yeah,” Karkat says. “That sounds good. I can kick your ass at all your board games and later in the week we can try watching a movie or something.”

He leans back into the couch, eyeing Dave’s pizza and asks, “Are you feeling nauseous?”

-

Karkat looks down at Dave’s extended fist and rolls his eyes, and for a moment Dave thinks Karkat is about to destroy the sanctity of the Fist Bump and leave him hanging, but then he brings up his own fist and bumps it against Dave’s.

Last summer the apartment got infested with flies. It was Dave’s bad. He left some apple juice out in the hallway, John kicked it over, and while they both did their best to mop it up within days the place was swarming with flies.

Which led to John buying one of those fancy electric bug zappers that looks like a tennis racket, and flailing it around the kitchen. He bought two, so he and Dave could both hunt down every last fucker and finally get their home fly-free.

This of course led to the two of them horsing around in the kitchen with the bug zappers, and John swung down his racket and knocked Dave’s flying across the room. As John’s racket came down, it stuck Dave on the fingertips.

A hot electric shock shot right up Dave’s arm, making him yelp out at the sensation. John apologized profusely, but it wasn’t like it really hurt, Dave more just cried out from surprise than anything. His whole arm tingled for a good hour afterwards, though.

When Karkat bumps his fist against Dave’s, Dave feels like he’d just been shocked with a bug zapper. Obviously there isn’t the initial sound of the zap, a spark, and Dave doesn’t feel any pain shoot up his arm and feel the need to jump back. Instead, it’s just the tingling sensation in his arm that’s familiar. A dull prickle, that Dave would have hardly noticed if it hadn’t just shown up out of nowhere. It almost feels like his arm just went to sleep.

Oh, god. Was this a concussion symptom? Maybe he should say something to Karkat. Wait, or maybe that was with strokes? And that was the left side that went numb, anyway.

Maybe Dave just got an electric shock off of Karkat’s sweater or something. Yeah, that was probably it.

Dave is pulled from his thoughts as Karkat asks him another question, and Dave perks up. Then follows Karkat’s gaze down to his barely-touched pizza.

“Nah, I’m all good,” Dave says, picking up his slice and taking a big bite to prove it. “I promise, if I start to feel anything weird, I’ll let you know. But I’m good right now, honest.”

-

Dave starts eating again and Karkat feels himself relax further. He knows he can be fucking obnoxious with his worrying and his hovering, and Dave is getting the brunt of that right now. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s responsible for Dave being injured or if Dave is just one of those people that he sees and his hindbrain switches over to ‘must protect’ but he needs to get it under control before he annoys Dave too much with his fussing.

The thought doesn’t stop him from grabbing Dave an extra slice of pizza when he gets up to get his own. Karkat can eat an entire pizza by himself if he’s determined enough, and Dave is too fucking skinny. He clearly needs to eat more. So Karkat drops the slice onto Dave’s plate when he comes back to the living room, returning to his spot on the couch.

Comfortable silence falls between them, and Karkat is almost surprised at how easy it is to just exist in Dave’s presence. Music from the speakers washes over him; it’s been playing since they started the game, but until now it’s just been background noise as Karkat’s focus was directed at other things. Karkat still listens to the music he did in high school.

“What song is this?” he asks, curious. 

-

Karkat finishes his pizza and gets up to get some more, and Dave scarfs down the rest of his first piece.

He was used to eating small portions, and eating slow to make those portions last so they felt like bigger portions. It meant he was always the last to finish his food, no matter the size of the meal. As Dave manages to get down to the crust on his first slice, a third slice drops onto the plate in his lap when Karkat sits back down.

Dave blinks a couple times in surprise before he says a quick, “Oh, thanks,” under his breath. He puts down the crust and picks up the second slice. Who had time for crust, can’t let pizza go cold, after all.

They sit on the couch, the sound of their chewing and sipping drowned out by the music (and thank god for that, hearing people chew was the actual worst).

Karkat asks about the music. Dave quickly chews his bite and swallows so he doesn’t talk with a full mouth again, since Karkat gave him shit for that before. And he wants to stay in the guy’s good graces.

The song doesn’t have any singing, just a collection of synth beats, distorted sounds and instrumentals. It’s one of the “chiller” ones on this particular playlist—Dave doesn’t usually make soft, quiet stuff. But that didn’t mean the soft, pretty tracks couldn’t still be fire. This track actually had a lot of tension to it, despite not being heavy on bass and shit. Like there was this underlying, frantic feeling to it.

“It’s one of my mixes,” Dave replies, “it’s uh, called Temporary.”

-

Karkat’s mouth falls open in surprise and he gapes at Dave. “You _made_ this?”

Karkat knows jack shit about music. He doesn’t know how to play an instrument and his singing voice is absolute garbage; the only time he ever sings is in the shower, with music playing in the background to drown out his voice. Grating and obnoxious, just like the rest of him. 

He thinks about the music that’s been playing, all surprisingly lyricless, and his eyebrows draw together.

“Did you make all of these songs?” he asks. 

Dave is… really creative, huh? He makes music, he’s apparently into photography. Karkat wonders what other artistic talents he has. If he draws, or paints, or writes. Karkat’s only talent lies in bitching people out and critiquing media. He’s been working on a novel for years now, but he doubts he’ll ever be able to get it published. He keeps going back and reworking it, never happy with the way the words come together. 

“That’s really impressive,” Karkat says, still kind of in awe at Dave’s musical prowess.

-

Karkat gapes at Dave when Dave mentions that the track is an original, and his voice sounds awed.

Dave really loves music, and he’ll ramble about that particular hyper-fixation to any poor bastard who gets him started, while sending them links to his SoundCloud and Spotify and whatever the fuck else he can jam down their throats until they cry uncle.

“Yep, these are all mine,” Dave says, and he had meant that to come out sounding more confident but instead he just says it softly while he stares down Karkat, watching him listen to his music.

He feels incredibly vulnerable all of a sudden, like he’s back at the hospital looking at Karkat with no shades on.

 _Impressive_.

Dave looks away, certain he went red as a fucking tomato. He already knew he enjoyed praise and attention, but there was something about Karkat doing it that...really did something for Dave.

“Thanks, man.” Dave says, trying to keep his voice even.

-

Dave’s voice goes soft and Karkat worries that he’s done something wrong _again_ , but then he notices the blush once more making its way across Dave’s face, up to the tips of his ears, and Karkat feels butterflies in his stomach. Is Dave _bashful_? That’s too fucking cute.

“I mean it, this is great,” Karkat says. He wonders if Dave just isn’t used to receiving compliments or if he gets like this every time. He wonders just how red Dave’s face can go, and he’s sorely tempted to find out. “I don’t have a single creative bone in my body and music may as well be sorcery for all I understand it.”

He takes a bite of his pizza, still watching the color spread across Dave’s face, almost erasing his freckles. “You should send this song to me; I like it a lot.”

“What other stuff are you into?” he asks. “Board games, making music, photography,” he ticks them off on his fingers as he goes. “Any other secret talents you’ve been blessed with?”

Maybe he’s laying it on a little thick, but he does like the song. All the music so far has been good, actually. He wonders if Dave has his songs online and if he’d be willing to let Karkat listen to them on his own time, when he isn’t distracted by a cute boy and the most cut throat game known to man.

-

Dave wonders if his heart would beat hard enough to crack a rib. He’s starting to think it just might. Karkat’s words of praise are pouring into him and filling his stomach up with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Dave busies himself with munching on his pizza as he tries to calm himself so when he responds to Karkat he doesn’t sound like a coy little schoolgirl getting praised by her upperclassman.

“Cool, I can totally send you some links later,” Dave says.

A few more bites of pizza. Karkat went and got him that extra slice, he clearly noticed Dave’s shitty eating habits. Chews. Swallows.

“I like to draw,” Dave says, “But I’m no Picasso or anything. I just sort of do it for fun. It’s relaxing and shit, and uh...helps me focus.”

Wow. He’d never admitted that little nugget of information to anyone. What was with him today? He never over-shared like this.

“I also like palaeontology,” Dave continues, despite himself, “That’s, uh, studying dead animals. Don’t worry, I don’t have like—dead cats strung up in my closet or some shit. This isn’t like...stepping stones to my secretly being a serial killer. I just...think it’s interesting. And cool.”

Okay, that probably wasn’t helping his case much.

It wasn’t...weird. It was science, after all. It was literally some people’s jobs to study this shit. It wouldn’t be creepy if it had -thology tacked onto the end of it, right?

Dave looks away, scratching at his hot cheek. He really hopes Karkat doesn’t think he’s some kind of weirdo now. He actually really likes hanging out with him.

-

Dave pays incredible attention to his pizza as he talks, and something about his tone makes Karkat feel like he’s being trusted with sensitive information. 

“You should show me your work some time,” Karkat says, then backtracks, “If you want.”

He hums as Dave talks about paleontology, huffing out a small laugh when Dave tries to assure him he’s not a serial killer. From what Karkat’s seen so far he doubts Dave has it in him to even be mean, let alone a murderer.

“My friend Aradia is studying to become an archeologist,” Karkat says, since Dave seems to need some assurance. How many times has Dave been made to feel like his interests are off putting, to be so unsure about sharing them? “She has a bunch of animal skeletons decorating her apartment. They’re creepy as fuck, especially when you’re crashing on her couch for the night, but they’re also pretty cool.”

He picks at his nails, wondering if he should stop talking about his friends so much. He doubts Dave gives a shit. But he apparently can’t fucking help himself.

“She also like, preserves dead shit and sells it online,” he continues. “She’s not a serial killer either, as far as I’m aware.”

He shoves his pizza in his mouth to stop himself from talking.

-

Dave perks right the hell up when Karkat brings up his friend Aradia.

“Oh man, for real? That’s so fucking cool. I have a couple of animal skulls I’ve collected, and for my birthday last year John got me this tiny little jar with a fly inside, suspended from the lid by a little string so that it isn’t just...rattling around at the bottom of the jar.”

It’s one of Dave’s prized possessions. He keeps it on his bedside table, separate from the rest of his Dead Shit collection. John teases him about it, but Dave’s pretty sure he’s actually kind of touched that Dave liked his present so much.

“I’ll send you my SoundCloud and shit if you give me a link to Aradia’s store, because I definitely want to check it out.” Dave says, “Enough about me, though. What kind of stuff are you into?”

Dave literally knows nothing about Karkat other than the fact he’s hot, nice, funny, caring, and seems to draw in a bunch of people to be his friends, like a damn magnet. Dave hopes he can be one of them.

-

The fly in a jar thing is weird as fuck but Karkat doesn’t let it show on his face. Dave’s back to his excited babbling and Karkat isn’t going to be an asshole and make him feel insecure about the stuff he enjoys. He’s had enough of people doing that to him throughout the years.

“Deal,” Karkat agrees. Aradia will be thrilled. No doubt she and Dave will be fast friends when--if, _if_ they ever meet. And Karkat will be able to listen to Dave’s music. 

He’s surprised when Dave asks about his own interests. Next to the stuff Dave does, Karkat just… seems boring. He finishes his third slice of pizza and puts his plate aside. He probably shouldn’t get any more.

“Oh uh,” he says. “I dunno. The usual shit, I guess? I like reading and watching movies. I like to dissect media; look at the tropes and stuff they use, what themes and motifs they use. I play video games even though I’m godawful at them and my shitblistering dicknugget of a roommate kicks my ass at them all the time.”

He frowns, thinking. He really doesn’t have any worthwhile hobbies, does he? Nothing that actively puts forth new things into the world the way Dave does. 

“Most of my time is spent working or helping my idiot friends through their various problems,” he shrugs. “I write a little, I guess, but it’s not really anything good.”

-

Dave listens while Karkat starts to explain what he likes to do. And...yeah, Dave figured Karkat was going to be into stuff as intense and complex and mysterious as the rest of him.

He’s sure there’s something incriminating and geeky in there somewhere, though. Dave will just have to keep probing.

“That’s cool. I’ve got a bunch of blogs, one of them is a video game review blog where I just ramble like an insipid douche about my opinion on games in massive essays that would have made my English teacher weep.”

What the fuck, Dave. They’re supposed to be talking about Karkat right now. It’s cool, he could save this.

“What kind of stuff do you like to write about? Got a favourite genre? Fiction? Non-fiction?”

-

Karkat would fucking _love_ to read Dave’s undoubtedly hilarious essays about video games. But he’s already asked to listen to Dave’s music, and he doesn’t want to come off as a weird stalker or something. It’s already fucking weird enough that Karkat’s here in the first place.

“I like romance,” Karkat admits. He’s never been ashamed of it before; he doesn’t know why telling Dave is making him so anxious. “And if you fucking laugh at me I’ll pull your spine out through your throat.”

His face is drawn in a scowl, already on the defensive about his interests. He’s heard enough shit about it from his friends, about how he’s a romance and soulmate obsessed asshole who needs to find something constructive to dedicate his time to. Not in those exact words, maybe.

But Karkat’s been enamoured by the idea of love since he was a child, watching his dad dance around the kitchen with his mom, before she got sick. They were soulmates and he desperately wants something like they had, someone who’s _made_ for him, who can put up with his acerbic personality and love him despite that. Someone he can love wholeheartedly, knowing that he’s not going to scare them away with his intensity.

He doesn’t tell these things to Dave. He’s never even told his friends. He keeps these thoughts locked away and lets his friends tease him and overreacts when they do and laughs along when he calms back down. Maybe, once he meets his soulmate, he’ll tell them. But until then it’s no one’s business but his own.

-

Karkat likes romance.

It wasn’t what Dave had expected to come out of his mouth. Science-fiction, action/adventure, maybe. But romance? Did that mean when Karkat said he liked to read, he was talking about those books with muscular, long-haired men with ripped open shirts holding some maiden and whisking her off on a horse into the sunset?

Dave keeps his expression neutral. Thankfully it’s a practiced art—years of “cool kid” training comes into play, and for once works to his benefit, so he can spare Karkat’s seemingly delicate feelings. He told Dave not to laugh, so he doesn’t even let himself crack a smile.

Not that he was thinking about laughing at Karkat. That would be mad uncool. He actually thinks that Karkat liking that sort of stuff is cute and endearing as fuck. He could see Karkat as one of those shirtless dudes with glistening, rippling muscles on the covers of those books, some pretty blonde maiden on his arm.

Or maybe he was a barbarian who seduced a young, blonde knight in the king’s court.

Dave stuffs an entire pizza crust into his mouth and chews and swallows before he’s sure he’s ready to speak without his voice cracking.

“Dude, bros don’t laugh at bros for liking the shit they like. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I did. I think it’s cool that you’re into writing romance stuff. Is it all pretty vanilla, or do the ladies get to show off some ankles and shit? How spicy are we talking?”

-

To his credit, Dave’s lips don’t even so much as twitch, and Karkat finds himself relaxing slightly. Dave could be saving the teasing for after, though. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“It’s not… just romance,” Karkat admits, thinking about his novel. “There’s plot and sci-fi elements. World building and shit. But it’s mostly just a backdrop for the character’s relationship to grow and progress.”

He watches Dave closely, but he doesn’t show even a tiny bit of amusement. Karkat tries not to get his hopes up.

“I’ll read or watch pretty much anything with a romance in it, though,” he continues. “It doesn’t have to be the focal point. But I love the fuck out of romcoms.”

Actually, having Dave _not_ making fun of him is throwing him off a bit. He feels off kilter, like something isn’t right in the world, and frowns. He’s used to his interest in romance being the butt of many jokes and he never thought he minded all that much. Maybe he was wrong.

“But yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’m mostly boring as shit. Just a boring, verbose jackass with strong opinions on things that don’t actually matter.”

Why. Why is he saying these things? He wants Dave to _like_ him, for fuck’s sake. Wait, no. It doesn’t matter if Dave likes him or not. Karkat’s just here to make sure Dave doesn’t keel over at the first sign of a bright light. He needs to get his head on straight.

-

Karkat dodges answering Dave about whether or not he writes about his characters doing the horizontal hussle, but Dave decides to leave it alone. He doesn’t want to pry too deep and embarrass Karkat, and he especially doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, dude,” Dave says, a slight frown pulling at his features at Karkat’s self-deprecation. “You’re a pretty, like...articulated guy. I’m sure your writing is really good. My attention span is pretty shit, so I have a hard time reading stuff, but I’m sure I could read whatever you wrote cover to cover.”

Dave realizes the heavy implication of the words after they’ve already left his mouth, and his heart jumps in his chest. Oh, god.

Pizza. Pizza. Dave takes a huge chomp out his slice, stuffing his mouth full of bread and sauce and pepperoni so he doesn’t keep letting it fucking slip how into Karkat he so obviously, blatantly is, like a complete jackass.

-

Karkat’s face burns at Dave’s compliment and confidence in his work. He’s wrong, but Karkat is touched anyway. Maybe it’s because he’s terribly attracted to Dave, or just because Dave sounds so sure, but the praise makes him want to squirm. 

“Thanks,” he says, awkward as fuck. He takes a sip of his soda and gestures to the board on the table. “Do you want to keep playing? How are you feeling?”

He winces at himself. Dave _said_ that he’d tell him if he was feeling bad, but Karkat can’t stop himself from smothering him with concern anyway. If he keeps this up Dave will kick Karkat out on his ass and post an ad on craigslist for someone better equipped to look after him. Or something.

Karkat doesn’t even remember whose turn it is. He’s pretty sure he’s been playing terribly so far; if his friends were here no doubt they’d tear him to shreds. He knows for a fact that he forgot to roll on doubles awhile ago. He’s not sure if Dave noticed. 

-

“Of course I wanna keep playing, this is a matter of honour,” Dave says, setting his pizza on the arm of the couch. He takes a gulp of soda as he considers going back to sitting on his cushion, but...his ass was getting kinda sore, sitting down there. And Monopoly games, especially ones with chaotic house rules, could go on for hours. Plus, there’s plenty of room for both of them on the couch. He’ll just stay put.

Dave sets down his drink and grabs the dice, pouting at the board as he tries to remember who went last before the pizza dude showed up.

“Let’s see, I got a community chest and passed Go, you gave me the money...and then the pizza guy came before we did your turn,” Dave surmises. He passes the dice to Karkat. “Your roll, dude.”

-

Dave doesn’t sit back down on the floor which, while surprising, is probably a good thing. He’s probably sore from being thrown all over the concrete. Karkat should have considered that before. 

He rolls, gets an 8, and buys Connecticut Avenue, tossing a smug smirk in Dave’s direction. That’s two light blues for Karkat. If he can convince Dave to trade he’d have his first color set. But there’s no way he’s giving up his yellow. 

He’s kind of getting a bit tired, now that there’s warm food in his stomach. This game could go on for hours, though, so he takes another drink of his soda, hoping the caffeine will wake him up. There’s no way he can fall asleep with his insomnia, but it doesn’t stop him from getting drowsy and exhausted. And it’s been a long fucking day.

Actually, is it okay for Dave to have caffeine with a headache? Karkat has no idea. He needs to do some research after Dave admits defeat and heads to bed, whenever that will be.

“Oh, do you need to call in to work or something?” Karkat asks, fishing his own phone out to send off some text messages while Dave takes his turn. He’s not scheduled to work tomorrow but the sooner he can get someone to agree to take his shifts the better.

-

Karkat smirks at Dave when he lands on Connecticut Avenue, and Dave squints his eyes at him even though Karkat can’t see it.

“You motherfucker,” Dave says under his breath, snatching the dice up off the board.

He rolls, and gets a 10. Oh, shit yeah, the Electric Company!

“Hell yes!” Dave crows, gathering up some bills and handing them to Karkat. Karkat hands him the card for the Electric Company. “And well, I’m off for the weekend, but I’ll message Roxy tomorrow morning and let her know what happened. She’s probably already out drinking by now so she won’t see my texts anyway.”

Dave’s head is starting to ache a bit, and he figures he should probably mention that to Karkat.

“Uh, hey, so...I’m getting a bit of a headache.” Dave says, feeling so weird to even have to be saying this, but he did promise Karkat he would. “But I want to keep playing. So let me just go pop some aspirin and maybe take a breather for a couple minutes so it can kick in. Then we can go back to it.”

Dave picks up his plate and heads back over to the kitchen to find the aspirin.

-

Karkat’s smirk turns into a full on grin when Dave curses at him. He wants to laugh, rub it in his face and lord it over his head for awhile, but they aren’t that kind of friends yet. Are they friends at all? Dave seems to be someone he just clicks with, but he isn’t sure if Dave feels the same and he doesn’t know how to ask without sounding like an idiot or an asshole.

Dave gets the electric company and Karkat rolls his eyes. It’s good for early game but it won’t make Dave rich.

Something tight in his gut uncoils when Dave admits that he has a headache. Karkat was maybe worried he wouldn’t actually speak up, just keep it to himself and suffer through it alone. But he gives Dave a small smile and nods as he heads into the kitchen.

He’s relieved enough that he even decides not to cheat while Dave is gone. He’ll have to give Dave pointers before he comes to play with his friends.

He rolls his eyes at himself, grabbing the dice and rolling those, too. _If_ Dave comes to play with them. It’s not an eventuality. A lot can happen in the time while Dave is recovering. Even if they are clicking pretty well right now, Karkat knows he’s a lot to put up with.

He gets two fives and rolls again, this time getting a nine, which lands him solidly on Water Works. He bites back a smile as he buys it, solely because he knows Dave wants it, and calls out, “Your move, Strider.”

-

Dave heads into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of Advil. He pouts when he realizes it has one of those child-proof caps that were basically impossible to do one-handed.

He puts the bottle on the counter and tries to squeeze the sides of the lid and twist it open at the same time, pushing down on the bottle as a counter-weight. But no dice. Dave sighs, and walks back over to the couch. He stands behind it and bumps Karkat on the shoulder with the pill bottle.

“Sorry, um...I can’t get it open.” he mumbles.

-

Karkat twists around when he feels something against his shoulder. Dave is standing there, looking shamefaced and holding out a bottle of aspirin like he’s a little kid, and Karkat’s heart melts into a little puddle in his chest. He grabs the bottle and opens it, passing Dave two little pills. He makes to close the bottle but hesitates.

What if Dave needs some in the middle of the night? So he leaves it open and puts the bottle on the table, and the cap right next to it. He passes Dave his glass of soda.

“I should’ve realized that,” Karkat says sheepishly. “Opening shit is gonna be a pain in the ass with a broken arm. Sorry.”

-

Karkat opens the bottle without protest and hands Dave two pills. Dave pops them into his mouth and Karkat hands him his glass of soda, which Dave accepts and he takes a swig to get the pills down.

Karkat’s apologizing yet a-fucking-gain, so Dave gives him a little half-shrug as he walks around the side of the couch and plops back down.

“It’s cool man, I forgot the cap woulda been like that,” he says, “But yeah, you’re right, I’m probably gonna wind up encountering a bunch of stuff that’s gonna be a lot more difficult with just one hand. Apparently I can’t get this cast wet, so I gotta, like...tie a fucking grocery bag around my arm whenever I want to shower. And scrub my hair one-handed.”

Dave doesn’t let himself go too deep down the rabbit hole of minor inconveniences he’ll have to endure with his broken arm, going back to the game. He spies Karkat’s little dog on the Water Works space and gasps.

“Oh, goddammit,” Dave grouses, grabbing up the dice.

He rolls a nine, and places his top hat down on Kentucky Avenue. He buys up the deed, then does a quick check of his funds. He’s got $685 bucks to play with.

Dave picks up the dice and hands them to Karkat as he smirks down at Karkat’s smaller pile of money, but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Your move, Vantas.” Dave says. If Karkat was putting them on a last name basis, that was fine by Dave.

Gave him a ladder to climb.

-

Karkat hadn’t thought about the shit Dave is going to have to put up with while having a broken arm. It’s definitely gonna fucking suck, and hopefully Karkat can make it easier.

“Ask me if you need help with anything,” he urges. 

He breaks into a grin at Dave’s little gasp. He’s smiling a surprising amount, considering how absolutely terrible this day has been. He rolls his eyes at Dave’s posturing, grabbing the dice and rolling. 

He rolls two fours, putting him on a chance card. He holds his breath as he draws, hoping it’s not another fucking go to jail.

“Advance to go,” he breathes out, relieved. He collects his $200 and rolls again. He gets two sixes, landing solidly on Dave’s electric company and groans. He passes Dave $48 and rolls again, hoping he doesn’t get this third double in a row. 

He gets off easy with a four and a two, placing him on Tennessee Avenue. Fucking nice. He forks over the $180, dropping his dwindling cash even further. But he’s one away from having another monopoly. Dave just needs to fucking land on his properties.

“I’ll trade you Mediterranean for Oriental,” he says, just to get his required trade offer out of the way. He fully expects Dave to reject it.

-

Dave thinks on it for a moment, looking at his deed cards. That would give Karkat the full light blue colour set, and leave Dave with a cheap land deed. And unless he landed on Baltic, he couldn’t even make a profit on it.

“Sorry, my man, no deal.” Dave says, shaking his head. “You’re gonna have to sweeten that pot if you want to trade with your fresh boy Dave on this one.”

-

Karkat snorts at the way Dave refers to himself. What a fucking nerd.

“Alright then you walking travesty,” he says, passing the dice over. “Your move. You’ll have to accept a trade at some point during this game.”

Dave may have more money than him right now but he’s nowhere near a color set. Karkat is totally going to kick his ass.

-

“I plan to trade when you’ve got something I’m willing to trade for,” Dave says haughtily, taking the dice from Karkat. “Patience is a virtue.”

He rolls, and gets six. He taps his top hat along the board, and then groans. Fucking Vermont Avenue.

“Dammit,” Dave sighs, “How much?”

-

Karkat looks at the card and rolls his eyes.

“Six dollars,” he says, holding his hand out. “However will you recover?”

He gets his whole six bucks and rolls again. He gets another double--two fives--which lands him back on waterworks. What is with these high rolls? Not that Karkat’s complaining, but where’s this luck when Vriska is around?

This time he gets a four, putting him on North Carolina. He winces but pays the 300$, claiming the deed as his own. He’s down to $148, but he just swiped another color set from under Dave’s nose and he finds himself eagerly awaiting his reaction, lips twitching into a smirk as he raises his eyebrow in Dave’s direction.

-

Dave groans yet again, louder this time, when Karkat lands on North Carolina and scoops up the deed.

“What the fuck, dude, you’re just leeching all my fucking good luck away from me,” Dave whines, “So unfair.”

He picks up the dice and gets a seven, putting him on Pennsylvania Avenue. Now he had two of the green, to Karkat’s one! He pays the $320 for the deed, which takes a massive chunk out of his money, but he’s almost at Go.

Dave’s all smiles again as he hands the dice back over to Karkat, waggling his eyebrows at him.

-

Karkat’s tempted to reach over and push Dave’s eyebrows back down, just to stop the ridiculous motion.

“Keep that up and they’ll fly away,” he says, which brings to mind the image of Dave without eyebrows. It’s almost enough to cover up the sting of Dave getting Pennsylvania Avenue, but not quite.

“You’ll have to pry that green property out of my cold dead hands,” he says, rolling the dice. He gets a nine, landing him back on Mediteranean, but at least he gets $200. 

He keeps getting distracted by Dave’s smile. He once again wishes he’d take his sunglasses off so Karkat can see his eyes; they really are something special. Karkat’s own eyes are a dark, dull brown. Completely unremarkable.

-

Dave makes his eyebrows do a wave motion at Karkat’s comment, just to prove how dexterous his brows are.

“I think I might be able to win you over in a trade,” Dave says, leaning his good elbow on the table and hefting one brow suggestively. “I can be very persuasive.”

Karkat passes Go and lands on his own property, so nothing happens. He hands the dice back to Dave, who quickly drops them onto the board.

He gets an eleven, and taps his way over to Reading Railroad. Dave grins.

“Hell yes, another railroad for D-Strides,” Dave says, “I just passed Go, so hang onto that $200 bucks and I’ll take the deed, good sir.”

-

Dave’s eyebrow control is impressive but Karkat doesn’t admit it. He just pulls his own eyebrows together and frowns. 

Is Dave flirting with him? It sounds like he’s flirting with him, but Karkat’s wildly bad at reading signals. Dave had hit on him before, but that was after he smashed his head into the ground; Karkat isn’t going to hold him to anything he said then.

“Are you offering a trade, then?” he asks.

He groans loudly when Dave gets another railroad, and one of the more commonly landed on ones. His roll of a seven takes him to his own property and he passes the dice back. So far this game has been much more calm than any other Karkat’s participated in. Just some slight shit talking and (maybe?) some flirting.

-

“I sure am,” Dave says.

He picks up his deed for Oriental Avenue and waggles it in the air.

“I’ll give you Oriental Avenue,” he says, “And you give me your phone number.”

Dave grins at the look at Karkat’s face. Hell yeah, Strider Charms activate.

“You did tell me to ask you again when I wasn’t concussed,” Dave says, tapping the card to his bottom lip as he speaks, “And, well—I guess I’m still concussed. But I’m not delirious and slurring my speech like an inane fuckwit, so, I’ll ask again. Gimme the digits, and the deed is yours.”

-

Karkat’s brain flatlines for a long moment as Dave waves the card around. Then it comes roaring back to life and Karkat doesn’t know what the fuck is happening.

Maybe Dave is just a flirtatious person by nature. Maybe he needs Karkat’s number for inane things (it would probably be a good idea to exchange numbers, in case Karkat has to go to work and Dave needs help with something) and he’s taking the opportunity to tease Karkat. Maybe he actually _is_ interested in Karkat.

“Maybe we should take you back to the hospital,” Karkat frowns. His cheeks are blazing hot and he has no doubt his face is an unattractive bright red. He looks away, biting his lip, and digs out his phone, handing it to Dave.

“Put your number in and I’ll text you,” he says, snatching the card out of Dave’s hand.

“I can’t believe you think I’m only worth Oriental Avenue,” he grumbles, still looking anywhere that isn’t Dave. “I’m worth Marvin Gardens at _least_.”

He’s probably worth Oriental at best, but whatever. He’s got butterflies flapping around in his stomach and his heart is pounding loudly in his ears. Dave probably isn’t even serious. Karkat needs to calm the fuck down. There’s no way someone who looks like Dave would ever be legitimately interested in _Karkat_ , not when he has a world of options open to him.

-

Dave happily takes Karkat’s phone and puts in his contact info, making sure to make his contact name something extra embarrassing.

Dave:weary::sparkles::sweat_drops::sweat_drops::sweat_drops::sunglasses::sunglasses::sunglasses::heart::heart::heart::heart:

There. Perfect.

Dave hands Karkat’s phone back to him and his cheeky grin falls as he hears Karkat continue to self-deprecate again—using Monopoly to do so, no less.

“Don’t be silly,” Dave says, “I just hadn’t landed on Boardwalk, that’s all.”

-

Karkat’s blush only gets worse as Dave hits on him via fucking Monopoly of all things. Christ, he’s done for. This is how he dies. Death via Monopoly flirtation. Not how he thought he’d go, but that’s fine. 

“You’re delusional,” he says. 

He grabs his phone back and stares at the emojis following his name. He quickly types out a text that says ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ and hits send. He nudges Dave with his knee and nods back to the board.

“Your turn, dickbag,” he tells him.

-

Dave’s phone buzzes in his back pocket and Dave jumps a little, not expecting Karkat to text him so soon.

Dave jumps again when Karkat bumps his knee against his and reminds him of his turn.

“Right, yeah,” Dave says, picking up the dice.

He rolls, and gets five, which puts him in Just Visiting. He clicks his tongue. Pretty boring turn, but oh well.

“You’re up.” Dave says, pulling out his phone while Karkat picks up the dice.

He smirks at Karkat’s message, and thumbs back a quick response.

TG: you know you love it

TG: that perfectly describes your reaction upon laying your eyes upon my delicate, reclined form

TG: like i was snow white laying there all pretty waiting for my prince to come

TG: and whisk me off in his honda civic

TG: and take me to the hospital

-

Karkat rolls while Dave dicks around on his phone. He gets a six and buys Virginia Avenue, and then his phone starts vibrating out of control. He frowns and checks it, revealing five new messages from the asshole sitting next to him.

“I’m right fucking here,” he says. He’s tempted to message back, just to be contrary, but he’s pretty sure ‘no visual stimuli’ means that Dave isn’t supposed to be on his phone, either. So he plucks Dave’s phone from his hands and puts it on the table.

“And that was definitely _not_ my reaction, shitstain,” he argues. “You looked like roadkill and,” _called me beautiful_ , “were slurring out the most brain-rotting bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Is Karkat prince charming in Dave’s metaphor? How unfortunate for him.

“And I don’t think prince charming hit snow white with his car and knocked her into a coma,” he adds.

-

Karkat takes Dave’s phone away and Dave pouts, but doesn’t argue. He kind of forgot he wasn’t supposed to be looking at screens.

Dave doesn’t really remember a lot of what he said to Karkat, he just remembers thinking Karkat was a total babe, and that Dave asked for his number.

Dave scoffs at Karkat’s words. “You didn’t put me in a coma, you over-exaggerative turd. Just concussed me.” Dave says with a shrug.

“I don’t remember much of what I said,” Dave admits, “What kind of supposed brain-rotting bullshit was I saying?”

-

Karkat looks away, running a hand through his messy curls. He remembers his complete bafflement at Dave calling him beautiful, the disbelief when he asked for his number and called him fucking _baby_. Dave slurring out the word _hottie_ , telling him he had a nice name…

Maybe Dave really is just Like That. Maybe he hits on everyone he meets and it’s so ingrained he does it even after severe head trauma. The thought makes Karkat deflate a little. Not that he’s disappointed or anything.

“Nothing worth repeating,” he says with a scowl. “You… wanted to take a picture of something, I think. Really fucking determined to get that shot, I guess. I could barely understand you anyway.”

He’s deflecting hard and he’s well fucking aware of it. Part of him is worried Dave will take those words back, though, and Karkat really doesn’t want that to happen, not when thinking about it--when he puts aside the complete and utter terror of the situation and only focuses on the words--makes him feel… kind of good, about himself. So deflection it is.

-

Dave is pretty sure Karkat isn’t giving him the whole story, but he doesn’t press him on it. He remembers asking for Karkat’s number and calling him a hottie, so he’s sure everything else was equally as embarrassingly incriminating.

If anything, Karkat not telling Dave all the weird, no-doubt horrendously flirtatious shit he said to him is probably a good thing. It’ll spare Dave some dignity.

Dave’s pretty sure thinking Karkat was a hottie was something that was definitely worth repeating, however. But Dave isn’t about to say so.

He’d already scored Karkat’s number, and got to watch his face turn an adorable shade of red in the process. So Dave would chalk that up to a win for now and keep his flirting more spaced out. This stuff was all about the right timing, after all.

Dave just shrugs casually in response. “Fine, keep your secrets.” he says lightly.

-

Dave doesn’t press for more and Karkat is grateful. He’d probably crack and end up spilling everything Dave said before, and he doesn’t want to have to watch Dave’s expression if he did.

“Yeah, okay Frodo,” he says knocking Dave’s shoulder gently with his own. “Are you gonna roll or do you forfeit?”

He’s feeling weird, right now. Like his skin is too tight. Dave’s compliments and attention aren’t something he’s used to, and even if he’s being genuine about it, Karkat isn’t sure if he’s interested. Well, he _is_ interested, obviously, just look at Dave. But he’s been in relationships before that went fucking nuclear, and the fallout was never worth it. He’s better off waiting for his soulmate than trying to fall in love with another unfortunate person.

-

“Holy shit I love you, I was hoping so bad that you would catch that reference,” Dave says with a wide grin.

He reaches over and punches Karkat lightly on the shoulder.

“I knew you were as big a nerd as I am,” Dave says, “I’m pretty sure this is destiny.”

Dave leans over the board and picks up the dice. “And no, I don’t fucking forfeit. We are entrenched in this bitch now, fucker.”

-

Karkat’s stupid little heart trips over itself when Dave says _I love you_ , even though it’s a casual, throw away thing and not the kind that Karkat ~~wants~~ _doesn’t_ want to hear. Dave punches him in the arm, the one that’s still tingling slightly.

“Who the fuck wouldn’t get that reference?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady. “Everyone’s seen Lord of the Rings, and besides, it’s a fucking meme.”

He takes a drink of his soda and clears his throat, ignoring Dave’s talk about destiny, which is too close to soulmates for his liking. “I don’t think anyone’s as much of a nerd as you are, but I may come close.”

-

“The kind of people I used to keep in my company wouldn’t have quoted memes and shit, that’s for fucking sure,” Dave says, “But once I got the katana out of my ass and realized that I was a certified Dork, I got the fuck outta there and made some real fucking friends.”

Dave leans back on the couch and smiles at Karkat. “I’m glad you’re as nerdy as I am. Means we’re definitely gonna get along. Maybe we should marathon LOTR sometime. Once I get the all-clear from Dr. Vantas to stare at a screen for that long, that is.”

-

“Those people are idiots and are not to be trusted,” Karkat declares. That’s a weird word choice there--katana--but Karkat doesn’t mention it. Dave has a lot of idiosyncrasies that Karkat will have to get used to while he’s staying here. “I’m glad you made some real friends, though. Who I assume have seen Lord of the Rings.”

He hums consideringly. “Yeah, fuck it, why not? I haven’t seen the movies in a few years. Once you’re cleared by an _actual doctor_ , let’s do it.”

Once Dave is cleared by an actual doctor he won’t need Karkat hanging around. The realization makes him bite his lip. How many plans are they going to make that they won’t stick to?

“So what other nerd shit are you into?” he asks.

-

Dave grins when Karkat agrees to a Lord of the Rings marathon. Hell yes.

“Awesome. And I’m talking full marathon, like, Hobbit movies first and then the original trilogy. We are going in on this bitch. It’s definitely gonna take us a few nights to do it, because Egbert has all the extended editions. So strap the hell in.”

Karkat asks about other nerdy stuff Dave is into, and Dave let’s out a little laugh. “Uh, I like anime, I guess. Which a bunch of people thinks makes you a fucking loser, but it’s cool as fuck and the stories are way more interesting than American tv shows. Are you into that stuff?”

-

Jesus, they’re gonna be here for a month if it’s the extended editions.

“I hope you have a shit ton of popcorn then,” Karkat says.

He thinks about the question. Hopefully Dave won’t find him lame or boring.

“I’ve seen a few of the more popular ones,” he admits. “Full Metal Alchemist, Madoka Magica, stuff like that. They were interesting, especially Madoka, but the high pitched voice acting was grating at points. The animation made it worth it, though. I’ve also seen a couple of the movies from that one popular studio. The movie about the delivery witch and the giant bear thing?”

“I watched those with my friend Tavros. He’s really into that shit. That and pokemon. He used to play the card game--I didn’t even know you _could_ play with those, I just thought they were for collecting,” he says. “But yeah, Tavros, Nepeta and I have marathons sometimes. We haven’t had one in awhile though.”

Karkat bumps Dave’s knee with his own. 

“You _are_ a fucking loser, but not because you like anime,” he says, trying to keep his voice light and teasing. It’s difficult, since he has exactly one tone (extremely annoyed) but he tries.

-

Dave nods along while Karkat speaks, and perks up when Karkat mentions delivery witches and giant bears.

“Ohh, Studio Ghibli? Right on. I’ve only seen Spirited Away—I know, fake fan. But I’ve been meaning to watch the other ones. There’s another marathon. Jesus, we’re gonna be holed up in here for months at this rate. Don’t worry, I will totally hook us the fuck up with the choicest, most quality of marathon snacks.”

Karkat bumps his knee against Dave’s again, and okay, that’s the second time he’s pulled that little maneuver. Karkat’s totally into this, right? This has to be flirting.

Karkat calls him a loser within the same beat of the flirty knee-bump, and ohh fuck, Dave is in trouble. Flirty banter is absolutely his kink. Karkat’s deep, gravelly voice getting all light and teasing and calling Dave names half-heartedly while giving him small, flirty touches? Dave is on cloud fucking nine right now. This is the best day of his life.

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” Dave prods, reaching over and poking Karkat in the shoulder. “Admit it, you think it’s charming as fuck.”

-

Dave talks about marathoning movies like he actually plans to follow through with it and Karkat smothers his hope as best he can. He thinks he’d really fucking enjoy watching anime with Dave, chowing down on popcorn and talking shit the whole time, having to rewind certain parts because they can’t shut the fuck up. It sounds like a genuinely good time and he briefly thinks about setting up another anime night with Tavros and Nepeta so he can introduce them to Dave.

Maybe. He’ll see how this goes.

And god, Dave _is_ charming. He didn’t even laugh when Karkat said he likes romcoms. He’s ridiculous and funny and handsome and fucking hit on him with Monopoly, what the fuck? Karkat would rather die than admit it, though the heat in his face may give him away.

“Oh yes, watching you stuff your face full of a crime against god in the form of a subway sandwich was _incredibly_ charming,” Karkat snarks. “And let’s not forget your blatantly incorrect Snow White metaphor. Fucking _swoon_.”

\- “You not only ordered but watched me eat that monstrosity and you’re still here anyway.” Dave points out.

 _Because he feels obligated, you horse’s ass. He hit you with a car_.

“So that counts for something,” Dave says, blatantly ignoring his intrusive thoughts. “And duh, that’s the point of a metaphor, you fucking dingus. That’s literally like, the Webster definition of a metaphor. Turning a word or a phrase to apply it contextually to something it’s not normally applicable to. That’s how the best stories get written, or how the most legendary raps get made. Who knows, my incredible charisma and penchant for convoluted metaphors might just rub off on you and I’ll make you into a New York Times bestseller.”

-

Dave has a point about the sandwich. If it had been any other situation Karkat would have heard _black olives_ and turned tail to run.

“You could sell your soul to the devil and publishers still wouldn’t look twice at my novel,” Karkat says, rolling his eyes. “And I know what a metaphor is, you ass.”

He shifts on the couch and stretches, hearing his shoulders pop. 

“If you’re so fucking charming how come you’re the princess, huh?” Karkat goads. “Shouldn’t you be the prince running off to slay the beast? The beast being my car in this case, I guess. Or me, since I was behind the wheel.”

-

Karkat stretches and that makes Dave’s poor, concussed brain short-circuit, and he basically forgets whatever the hell it was they were just talking about because Karkat stretches his arms over his head and he groans as it works out the kinks in his muscles. His shirt rides up the tiniest bit, exposing a small patch of skin on his stomach. Dave stares at it until Karkat’s arms come back down and it vanishes from sight.

Oh, Karkat’s saying something. Focus, Dave, focus.

“Nah, you’re totally the prince in that scenario,” Dave says. And then he remembers his romance cover idea, and his lips pull into a sneer. “But, well, since you have such a violent track record so far, maybe you’re actually a barbarian. And I’m the knight you struck down on the battlefield. But then you took off my helmet and went, dear god he’s gorgeous, I can’t let this one die—so you carried me away to get me to a healer because my limpid pools just made your stomach drop.”

Okay, Dave is probably laying it on a bit thick here. But Karkat said he liked romance, right? Maybe he’ll lap up all this cheese like it’s a hot bowl of fondue.

-

Karkat’s lips tug into a frown at the mention of his violent track record. He’s not a violent person; he used to think he was, when he was younger. He used to want to be, because he thought it would make him someone worthwhile. But him, a barbarian? The idea is laughable. 

But fuck if Dave isn’t one hundred percent correct about his fucking _limpid pools_. He has to know exactly how gorgeous and disarming his eyes are. A secondary reason for the sunglasses, perhaps. He has to protect the public.

“If I was a barbarian I would have left you there to rot,” he says. “You’re giving yourself too much credit. And fucking ‘limpid pools?’” He makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “I’ve read some hot garbage but what the fuck are _you_ reading?”

“And you’re not a very good knight if _I_ managed to knock you down on the battlefield,” he continues. “I doubt any healer has the ability to cure someone who doesn’t have a brain in their head.”

He’s having fun with this now, this back and forth they have going on. He’s honestly not sure where the line is between friendly ribbing and being outright mean, since he and his friends stomp back and forth across it without a second thought, but Dave still seems amused. Karkat will just have to watch himself.

-

Karkat frowns when Dave jokingly says he’s got a violent track record. Obviously Karkat didn’t hit Dave with his car on purpose, and Dave’s certain Karkat doesn’t have a hurtful bone in his body.

He’s worried for a moment he might have hurt Karkat’s feelings, but then Karkat’s jumping right back into their playful ribbing and banter, and Dave grins. Hell yes, finally someone around who gives as good as he gets. To keep Dave on his toes.

He gives a passive little shrug. “My friend Rose writes some weird stuff, I’m pretty sure I coined that expression from her.” he says, “But, yeah, limpid pools is a bit of stretch. More like, creepy affliction that made all the other kids think I was an alien, or some shit.”

Dave taps the arm of his shades. “These are also so I don’t turn people to stone.”

-

“I’ll have to read some of her stuff sometime if she’s using descriptors like _that_ ,” he says, lip curling in disgust. His inner editor is fucking appalled, but he dosn’t say anything more on the subject.

“Creepy affliction?” Karkat repeats. Karkat’s well aware how cruel children can be, but he can’t imagine anyone being anything other than starstruck by Dave’s eyes. “Hardly. They’re definitely striking and unique, but they aren’t creepy. Pretty is a better word for it.”

He realizes what he just said and wants to kick himself. _You can’t just go around telling random men that they have pretty eyes, idiot_.

“But aliens are fucking cool, anyway,” he hurriedly continues, hoping Dave will just… not register that remark. “Is that your superpower? Are you a medusa?”

-

Striking. Unique.

Pretty.

Nobody had ever called Dave’s eyes any of those things before. There weren't a lot of people who had an opinion on them at all, since Dave didn’t let people see them.

It probably wasn’t just his eyes that had made the kids in his class think he was a creep. It was probably a combination of the devil-red eyes, quiet demeanour, and penchant for finding dead animal carcasses on the road and bushes on his way home from school and taking them home to clean the bones.

Dave had just been a weird fucking kid. Unapproachable, stoic, and strange.

And he was still a weirdo, but he’d done a lot of work on himself to let people in more. Finally getting away from Bro had really helped with that, but it still took a long time and a lot of conscious effort on his part (and lots of Real Talk sessions with Rose) to be able to double-check himself on his learned behaviours.

He still had up walls, but...they were for the best. He didn’t need to let everyone see all his dirty laundry, after all.

Karkat asks about Dave’s superpower, and Dave takes that and runs with it. Karkat’s cheek went dark red when he called Dave’s eyes pretty, and Dave’s sure he looks the same. This flirty sesh was getting almost too real. Time to reel it back in to lighthearted goofs.

“My superpower is being the fucking master of rhyme,” Dave says.

-

Dave doesn’t comment on his stupid fucking slip up, thank god. Karkat hopes he didn’t make him uncomfortable. Instead he comes up with a different super power and Karkat clings to that like a lifeline. He recalls Dave mentioning rap in his metaphor explanation and his eyebrows raise.

“Oh my fucking god,” Karkat says. “Do you _rap_?”

Holy shit; he _has_ to introduce Dave to Tavros. He’ll sit back and listen to whatever awful shit spews out of their idiot mouths until his ears bleed. It will be amazing.

-

Dave grins. “I don’t just rap, I weave a goddamn tapestry of phrases.” he says, “Hold up, I got some stuff on another playlist.”

Dave pulls out his phone and quickly pulls up Spotify, tapping on the playlist. He hits shuffle, letting fate decide which song will grace Karkat’s ears first.

https://open.spotify.com/track/4TIJ2WceZVbMbHKGuM91BL?si=fRfPdyI7SwmkjghXOocdlw

-

Dave pulls up another song, all bright smiles, and it’s obvious that he takes pride in his music. The song that plays is surprisingly slow, and Dave’s voice drifts over Karkat’s ears. The lyrics are sweet and romantic and _soft_ , and Karkat feels those butterflies start swooping in his stomach all over again.

“Oh,” he says, when the song ends. “That’s… really good.”

And it is. Dave is clearly talented. Karkat almost feels bad for thinking it would be terrible. He’d still love to introduce Dave to Tavros, though.

Karkat used to write poetry in high school. Angry, angsty things and, hidden among them, one or two about love. He never showed them to anyone, never even spoke them aloud. He thinks he destroyed them, at some point, and if he didn’t he doesn’t think he could go back and read them. They’re too personal, too much of who he was at the time poured into them. 

Dave has no problem putting his work on display, apparently. It’s… admirable, Karkat thinks. He’s only ever shown Kanaya anything he’s written, and only because he knew she’d be too nice to tear him to shreds.

He realizes he’s been quiet for too long. Fuck.

“Uh, yeah, you’re. Really fucking talented when it comes to music, huh?” he says. It’s phrased as a question but he doesn’t mean it as one.

-

The song that plays is...well fuck, definitely one of Dave’s cutesier ones. He was in a practically sappy mood when he wrote that one, that’s for sure.

He’s normally super into sharing his music with people, eager to see what they think (translation: desperate for praise and recognition). But with Karkat, Dave finds he’s...really, really anxious to hear what Karkat thinks.

Karkat says it’s good, and Dave perks up. Karkat’s expression is...soft, and it’s not something Dave’s seen from him yet. He can’t look away.

Then Karkat’s calling him really fucking talented and—god. Fuck. Dave squirms, the praise hitting him like blows, they hit so deep.

“Thanks, dude.” Dave says, the words almost getting stuck in his throat.

Fuck. He was going to have a permanent blush after tonight, wasn’t he? He doesn’t think his temperature has dropped the slightest bit for the last few hours.

Another song comes up on shuffle, and Dave leaves it be, letting the playlist play through. He totally forgot about their game.

“Oh, fuck, I think it’s my turn.” Dave says, reaching for the dice, “My bad.”

He rolls, and gets double fours. He moves his top hat eight spaces, and lands on Tennessee Avenue. He pouts.

“Goddammit,” he sighs, “alright, let me roll my next one before I fucking forget again, and then I’ll pay you.”

He rolls again, and gets a five. That takes him to Indiana Avenue. Hell yes, another red property!

“I’ll buy up the deed for Indiana, how much do I give you for landing on Tennessee?

-

God, Dave looks so good with a cute little blush on his face. Fuck, Karkat might just have to give in and let this crush run its course; it’s not like he’s doing so great at keeping it under control. At least Dave seems to be relatively into him back? Maybe? He flirts up a storm and Karkat still isn’t sure if he’s just like that or if it means something. 

Dave shifts on the couch like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, looking away and reminding Karkat that oh yeah, they’re in the middle of a game, huh?

“$16,” Karkat says, collecting his money and passing Dave the deed. Maybe Karkat should lay off the compliments for now and stick to talking shit; Dave seemed to respond better to that. 

He rolls and gets a four, breaking his high roll streak and landing him on Tennessee, his own property. He takes stock of the board and realizes he has the first monopoly, even if it’s on the cheaper bue set. He’ll wait to buy some houses for it, though.

He hands Dave the dice and leans back, checking the clock to see how long they spent just talking. It’s almost 11 at night, and Karkat has barely noticed the passage of time. He chews his lip, wondering if he should say that he’s tired--his period of drowsiness has long since passed, but the doctor said it was important for Dave to sleep.

But Dave said he’d tell Karkat if he was feeling worse, so he decides to keep it to himself. If midnight comes and goes Karkat will bring it up.

-

Dave rolls and gets a six, moving over to Marvin Gardens, which he already owns.

“Laaame,” he drawls, passing Karkat the dice, “Alright, dude, you’re—hey, you good? You’re looking kinda sleepy. I always feel like crashing after a bunch of pizza. Fuckin’ carb, right? We can put the game on hold, if you want. Leave all the pieces out and try again tomorrow. My headache hasn’t really gone away, so I should probably just sleep it off, anyway.”

-

Karkat blinks, surprised, but says, “Uh, yeah, that might be a good idea.”

He stands up and stretches, raising his arms above his head and letting out a sigh as his back cracks. He grabs both of their plates and empty cups and heads into the kitchen, rinsing them off and depositing them in the sink. He’ll do them tomorrow when he wakes up, or maybe tonight if his insomnia acts up.

He heads back out to the living room and says, “hey, can I take a shower?”

It’s been a long day and he feels gross. He hopes he doesn’t smell too bad.

“Do you need help with anything?” he asks.

-

Karkat gets up and stretches again and that’s just...not...fair.

He clears up all their dishes while Dave sits on the couch, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so fuckedsofuckedsofuckedsofucked.

Then Karkat asks if he can use the shower, which automatically puts a mental image of Karkat all wet and naked in Dave’s head, because of course it does.

Dave clears his throat. “Yeah, go for it.”

Fuck, his voice still cracked. God fucking dammit.

-

Dave’s voice is weird and he looks tense as shit, but he doesn’t say anything else so Karkat lets it go. He heads to the roommate’s room and grabs his shower things and the towel he had enough foresight to bring, and goes to the bathroom. 

He spends too long fucking around with the temperature, trying to find a balance between freezing cold and burning hot, but eventually he starts to feel bad about killing the earth so he hops in and deals with the sting of blazing water on his skin. He scrubs down, and the tension drains from him. He hadn’t realized just how tense he still was.

He doesn’t want to get out once he’s done, so he stands under the spray for a few moments longer, trying to get his mind blank. But anxious thoughts keep running around his head so he gives up. It’s only when he gets out that he realizes he didn’t bring his pajamas.

Worse than that, he suddenly realizes he didn’t _pack_ his pajamas. What the fuck kind of idiot packs a goddamn towel but not pajamas? He’d been stressed; Sollux had been making fun of him. He’d just escaped the fucking hospital. His brain hadn’t been working right. 

He eyes his dirty clothes on the floor, but the idea of having them touch him now that he’s clean makes him want to die. He closes his eyes, takes a deep inhale through his nose, and prays that the sight of him won’t make Dave’s eyes bleed or something.

He wraps the towel around his waist and walks into the hallway, scowl firmly in place and sharp defenses ready on his tongue, and calls out, “Dave? Do you have some pajamas I can borrow?”

-

Karkat heads off to the shower and Dave stays on the couch, leaning back with a sigh and closing his eyes. It really doesn’t feel a hell of a lot better when he closes his eyes.

Without any kind of stimuli, it’s like his brain goes totally quiet, and he feels his head ache a little less. He should really get to bed pronto. Dave gets up and leaves the game out on the table so they can start up again tomorrow. He grabs the opened bottle of Advil, leaving the cap behind on the table. He’s not gonna fuckin’ need it anyway.

Dave walks down the hallway, hearing the shower running from the bathroom as he goes.

Don’tpicturehimwetandnakeddonotdonotnotnotnotnotnotnot—

Dave gets inside his room, puts the bottle of Advil on his bedside table, and goes over to get out some clothes to sleep in. He picks out a large, baggy red t-shirt, and some black pajama bottoms covered in playing cards house suits.

Pulling the clothes out of the dresser, and then shutting the drawer with his hip, proves to be pretty standard. No problems so far.

Then, Dave unbuttons his jeans, pulls down the zipper, and yanks his pants down and around his ankles, grateful once again his dominant hand isn’t the one in a full-arm cast right now.

He kicks the jeans off to a random corner of his room, then he grabs the collar of his shirt from the tag at the back of his neck and pulls. It’s a little more cumbersome than the swift, seamless movement the maneuver usually is, but whatever. He still manages to wrangle his head free, and then drag his shirt off his cast, where the fabric gets caught on the rough tape. His shades got a bit crooked and his hair a bit messy in the process. Dave readjusts his shades.

Now he’s in boxers, socks, shades, a big red cast, and nothing else. He ponders for a moment just sleeping like this. But then he looks back over at his bottle of Advil and realizes he didn’t bring any water to take with it. He’d have to go back to the kitchen and get a glass.

Dave looks over at the pj bottoms and Tshirt on his bed, and frowns. How the hell was he gonna do this? He sits down on the edge of the bed and grabs the PJ bottoms. He opens up the waistband, and bends down to hook one foot inside, then pulling it slightly up his leg. So far, so good. He repeats this with the other foot, then stands up.

He sort of has to shimmy the waistband up his hips, but otherwise he gets the pants on. Cool. That wasn’t too bad.

Okay, next was the shirt. Maybe Dave should just sleep shirtless. He and Karkat were both dudes, after all. It’s not like they didn’t have nothing the other hadn’t seen before. Well, except his scars. 

But Dave is all wirey and pale and boney and Karkat...wasn’t. Not that Dave knew for sure. He’d only imagined Karkat shirtless. And maybe Real Karkat wasn’t as shredded as Mental Karkat, but he was certainly going to look better than Dave did with no shirt on.

Dave picks up the shirt from the bottom hem, and pulls it over his head. He shifts it around, looking for the neck hole. He eventually finds it, and snakes his head through. Now he’s got a big red cotton necklace on. Cool.

Dave lifts up his cast, bent at the elbow, and tries to pull the shirt around it, but it is awkward as all fuck. He tries this again with the right side, but that proves equally fruitless.

Dave drops his arm, and blows out a frustrated puff of air. Shit. How the hell was he supposed to get dressed every day? He couldn’t exactly go shirtless twenty-four-sev.

Dave yanks the shirt off his neck and tosses it back down on the bed. Whatever. He can just sleep shirtless, and he’ll wrangle the shirt over his head in the morning. For now, he’s just gonna get a glass of water, wait for the shower to be free so he can brush his teeth, and then fuckin’ crash.

Dave heads out into the hallway, and just as he does so the door to the bathroom opens and steam billows out into the hallway. Karkat steps out wearing nothing but a dark gray towel around his waist.

Dave is frozen where he stands, and it takes all his willpower to keep his mouth neutral, instead of hanging open. Or for his eyebrows not to shoot up into his bangs. Thank god for the shades, because his eyes bug out of his skull.

Hachi fucking machi.

The shirtless Karkat in Dave’s mind had nothing on the genuine article.

Holy shit, there were still droplets of water on his shoulders and chest and stomach. Dave follows the trails of one of the drops as it rolls down Karkat’s stomach and disappears behind the towel.

Dave’s never been more jealous of a drop of water in his entire life.

In fact, Dave has never been jealous of a drop of water in his life.

Oh, fuck, Karkat asked him a question.

“Uh, yeah, I got—I got some.” he stammers out.

Fuck. Be cool, Dave, be fucking cool—

“Uh, come with me.”

Dave turns around stiffly and speed walks back to his room, quickly slipping inside and yanking open a drawer.

Karkat follows him into the room and Dave looks out the window, off at nothing. “Pick out whatever you want.”

-

Karkat isn’t expecting Dave to be in the hallway and he’s certainly not expecting him to be fucking shirtless. He’s got a pair of red pj pants slung low on his waist, and Karkat’s eyes are drawn there like a magnet. 

Dave is what Karkat would describe as _lithe_. Tall and thin, with slight muscle definition. Nothing like Karkat, who’s squat and heavyset, with some chub around his belly unless he’s seriously dehydrated. Dave’s collar and hip bones stand out in sharp relief and Karkat wants nothing more than to bite and lick at them, to hear what noises Dave would make and see the red marks on his skin.

Dave is also completely _covered_ in freckles. He has constellations splattered across his shapely shoulders, his chest and stomach, disappearing underneath his pants. Where there aren’t freckles there are either scars--long, thin lines that make a few things about Dave come together in Karkat’s mind--or purpling bruises from the accident earlier.

Karkat’s mouth feels incredibly dry and he can hear blood rushing in his ears as Dave stares at him. Dave looks gorgeous and Karkat is suddenly aware that this week--or however long he’ll be staying--is going to be utter _torture_.

Dave says something Karkat doesn’t catch because his brain is still going haywire. He turns around and Karkat immediately oggles his ass, following behind as he heads into his room.

Karkat doesn’t even get a chance to look around before Dave is pulling open a drawer and telling him to grab something while pointedly looking away from Karkat. It’s almost worse than just being called ugly.

He grabs the first pair of pajama bottoms he sees, stutters out a “thanks,” and books it back to the bathroom to scoop up his clothes, then slips into John’s room. When the door is closed behind him he leans against it and groans, pressing into his eyes with the palms of his hands.

He gets dressed, grabbing the most comfy sweater he brought with him and throwing it on along with a pair of boxers and the pajama pants. He tries to calm himself down but the image of Dave standing in front of him, shirtless with messy hair, flashes across his mind and he reaches up to tug lightly at his hair. 

He’s so motherfucking fucked.

He waits for whatever this… overwhelming emotion is to pass, and when he finally has himself under control he sets his face back to neutral and leaves the room. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he sequestered himself away due to his complete and utter incapability to handle looking at a hot guy, but he doesn’t find Dave anywhere else in the apartment, so he goes to his room and knocks on the doorframe.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is an octave or two higher than it should be and he clears his throat, embarrassed. “You need anything before I head to bed?”

-

Karkat quickly picks out some clothes to sleep in and leaves the room, and Dave can’t help but pull his eyes away from the window to watch Karkat go.

The back is just as nice a view as the front. Dave finally understands and appreciates the phrase _I hate watching you leave, but I love watching you go._

When Karkat’s gone, it finally dawns on Dave that Karkat is going to be wearing Dave’s clothes. Well, it’s just some PJs, but still.

Karkat’s ass will probably look just as smokin’ in Dave’s pj pants as it does in a towel.

Dave needs water.

He stumbles out to the hall and back to the kitchen, rinsing out his glass from earlier and then filling it up with tap water. Fuckin’ whatever, tap would have to do. Dave didn’t want to fuck with the pitcher in the fridge right now, and this was just in case he needed to take a pill during the night.

Dave takes his glass of water back to his room, then goes and brushes his teeth. Thank god he and John always lose the cap for the tube of toothpaste, so Dave doesn’t have to worry about unscrewing it. But he does have to lie his brush on the edge of the sink and squeeze out a dollop, then pick up the brush. He’s going to have to do everything backwards and upside down for the next few weeks in order to function, and not ask for Karkat’s help every five fucking seconds.

Once that’s taken care of, Dave heads back to his room, flicks out his light and flops down on his bed. Sleeping was going to be awkward too. What if he rolled over onto his cast in the night? Would that fuck his arm up?

Dave usually slept on his stomach too, but that wasn’t really doable with a full-arm cast. He sighs. Looks like he was sleeping on his back.

Dave pulls off his shades and sets them down on his bedside table. He shuffles against the pillows. Ugh. Back-sleeping was so weird—it was like lying dead in a coffin.

There’s a small knock at his door, and Dave’s eyes pop open as Karkat calls through the door if Dave needs anything.

Dave’s heart squeezes, and he tells it to shut the fuck up. Karkat was just doing what he came here to do in the first place.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Dave calls out, “Sleep tight.”

-

Dave says he doesn’t need anything so Karkat replies, “Alright. Come get me if you do. Night.”

He heads back to the room that isn’t his and lays down on an unfamiliar bed that smells like an unfamiliar person. He forgot to change the sheets. Oh well, he’ll just have to remember to ask Dave tomorrow.

He tries to fall asleep, but his brain won’t shut up. Karkat has a hard time sleeping normally with his insomnia, but tonight it’s even worse. Every time he closes his eyes he remembers the terror he felt when his car jolted, the helplessness that flooded through him when he saw Dave laying prone on the pavement. 

He should have known he wasn’t to get off so easy after being in a fucking car accident. Now that he’s not hyperfocused on Dave, on making sure he’s alright, everything is starting to catch up with him. He feels oddly cold in his sweater, curled up under the covers.

He tosses and turns for hours. He thinks he manages to doze off once or twice, but each time he jerks awake with a quiet gasp, fear shooting his eyes wide.

Finally, at around 3am, he admits defeat and pulls out his phone. He spends awhile researching how to take care of someone with a concussion. Sleep good, caffeine bad. Tylenol okay but not Ibuprofen or Advil. Fuck, he’s already fucked up so much while taking care of Dave.

Karkat drags himself out of bed with a sigh. Well. No time like the present.

He doesn’t have a key and he feels uncomfortable leaving the door unlocked, so he grabs Dave’s house key from the table near the door. He does the dishes before he goes, and heads out to the closest 24 hour walgreens to get some fucking Tylenol. Remembering Dave’s comment about apple juice from the hospital, Karkat buys a bottle of that, too.

By the time he’s walking back into Dave’s apartment the sun is coming up and he’s finally feeling like he can maybe sleep, so he changes back into his borrowed pajama pants and comfortable sweater, crawls into bed, and closes his eyes.

-

Karkat heads to John’s room and Dave sits up and hikes up his legs, grabbing his covers and pulling them over himself as he scoots down into bed, keeping his arm elevated awkwardly as he does so.

He settles back down with a sigh, and closes his eyes.

His head aches, but he’d just taken Advil. This probably isn’t even a headache so much as the bump under the bandage on his forehead throbbing with pain. His arm feels tender, too. Now that he doesn’t have the board game and his banter with Karkat to distract him, it’s like all of Dave’s senses are heightened, just lying here in the dark.

He’s not sure how long he lays there in the darkness, but eventually sleep comes over him. It feels like more of a light cat nap than anything else, not exactly REM sleep.

He’s not sure what time it is when he wakes up, the sounds of water running, keys jingling—it doesn’t take much to wake Dave up, he’d always been a light sleeper. But the sounds are gone before he’s pulled any further to consciousness and he gets pulled back under again.

He dreams of knights and barbarians and castles. Of being carried across a battlefield, sore but warm.

Dave wakes again some time later to more sounds. A door opening and closing in the distance, footfalls down the hallway, another door closing, closer this time.

Dave’s head pounds, his arm feels like it has its own heartbeat.

He never changed John’s sheets.

Dave’s eyes shoot open in realization, and he sits up quickly. Ooh, fuck—that was a mistake. Dave groans and brings a hand to his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose.

What was he getting up for again? Right. Sheets, sheets, sheets.

Dave yanks his sheets off his legs and gets out of bed. He goes out into the hallway and opens the linen closet, pulling out some of his own sheets. He goes over to John’s door, tucking the sheets over his bent, cast arm. He raises his hands to knock, but hesitates. It was probably only, what, like 5am? Karkat was probably dead asleep.

Dave bites his lip. Maybe he could just slip in quick and leave the sheets on John’s chair, and Karkat could change them later.

Dave grabs the doorknob and quietly turns it, carefully pulling the door open and slinking inside. Years of sneaking around his old apartment, coming into practice. If he could sneak past Bro’s defences, he could slip in and out without disturbing a sleeping houseguest.

-

The only reason Karkat’s aware of someone entering his room is because of the displaced air; everything else about it is silent. He’s so, so close to sleep--just a few more moments and he’ll be out, hopefully for a good long while, but then he feels the air move around him and peels his eyes open.

He blinks the bleariness from his eyes as he takes in Dave standing at the door, frozen, red eyes wide as Karkat sits up. He’s holding a bundle of fabric in his arms. Karkat rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

“What’s up?” he grumbles out, voice thick. His eyelids are heavy but already he feels himself waking up a bit, concern beginning to pierce the dense fog in his brain. “What’s wrong?”

-

Shit, Karkat must be as light a sleeper as Dave, if he woke up from that.

“Sorry, dude,” Dave says quietly, “Didn’t mean to wake you. I just, uh, remembered that I was gonna change your sheets. I’ll just leave them here. Sorry, I’ll let you keep catching those Zs.”

Dave leaves the folded sheets on John’s computer chair and then heads back for the door, taking one last look at Karkat’s sleepy expression and bedhead because _cute_ , then slips back out into the hall.

Dave’s stomach is yelling at him for food, so Dave heads down the hall towards the kitchen. They still had a bunch of pizza left over. Cold pizza for breakfast, fuck yeah.

-

Dave says something about… sheets? His voice is soft, quiet, and hearing it makes some of the anxiety in Karkat’s chest settle. Dave deposits the fabric bundle onto the chair and leaves Karkat trying to make sense of what just happened.

He’s tempted to try to go back to sleep. It’s still within his grasp, he can feel it, but then he thinks about Dave taking another dose of Advil and groans, dragging himself out of bed once more. He heads to the kitchen where he can hear Dave moving around, making a stop to grab one of the many bottles of Tylenol he bought on his way.

“Here,” he grunts, placing the bottle on the counter as Dave pulls out a pizza box from the fridge. “‘S better for concussions.”

He looks around the kitchen with a frown. 

“Where’s your coffee maker?” he asks. He’s a grumpy little bitch in the mornings and he knows it. Coffee helps. Slightly.

-

Karkat stumbles into the kitchen just a few moments after Dave does, and slaps a bottle of Tylenol down on the counter as Dave pulls a pizza box out of the fridge. Dave blinks down at the bottle, then he does a double take when he sees something large and dark gold in the top shelf of the fridge—could it be?—

“Holy shit!” Dave cries excitedly. Apple juice! That was not fucking there last night. Neither was the Tylenol.

Dave sets the pizza box on the counter and then goes back and swipes the apple juice out of the fridge. He was all over that shit.

“Did you go shopping?” Dave asks incredulously, “When the hell did you do that?”

Karkat grumbles something about a coffee maker as Dave sets the bottle of AJ on the counter. Dave looks over his shoulder, an amused look on his face. Looks like Karkat was the kind of person who did not function in the mornings until he had his java fix. Dave figured it was time to learn another Karkat Fun Fact, since they were on Day 2.

“Uh, we don’t have one,” Dave says, a bit sheepishly, “John’s dad gave him a percolator as a house-warming gift when he moved here from Washington. You ever used one? I never had before living with John, but I swear it’s the best way to make coffee.”

Dave goes over to a cabinet beside the oven, opens it up and crouches down, grabbing the percolator—a steel kettle with a glass ball on the top of the lid. Then he pulls a bag of ground coffee across the counter, over to where he sets the percolator down on the stove.

“Alright, so you take the lid off,” Dave says, popping the lid off the percolator as he speaks, “And you put coffee grounds in this bit on top. Then you fill the thing up with water, and boil it. When you see the coffee start to bubble up into this little dome thingy here, the coffee is ready. Hope you like caramel toffee flavour, ‘cause we’re out of regular roast right now.”

-

Dave cries out in delight at the apple juice which, even when sleep deprived and grumpy, Karkat finds adorable. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says. “Went shopping. Tylenol ‘n’ apple juice.”

He squints at Dave in disbelief when he says they _don’t have one_.

“No coffee maker,” he says, dread washing over him. But before he has a chance to grieve over this fact, Dave is pulling out some weird contraption, explaining how to use it, but Karkat’s too out of it to follow along and commit it to memory. Either Dave was gonna have to show him again later or he’s making the coffee every morning.

“Don’t give a shit,” he grumbles, leaning against the counter and closing his eyes. “‘S long as there’s coffee.”

-

Dave goes over and grabs a slice of pizza from the box and takes a bite, looking over at Karkat who...leans against the counter and closes his eyes.

Dave chews on his pizza contemplatively as he looks Karkat over. He looks tired. Was he seriously up all night? Enough that he went to the store because he couldn’t get to sleep?

“Sorry you couldn’t sleep, does John have a pea under his mattress or something?” Dave asks.

Karkat doesn’t make a move to start making the coffee, so Dave sets his pizza down on top of the box and walks back over to the stove.

“If you pour me some of that AJ, I’ll get the coffee going. Sound good?”

Dave doesn’t wait for Karkat’s answer, already grabbing a spoon out of the cupboard and spooning out a few tablespoons of coffee grounds into the reservoir on top.

“John’s dad is apparently a real coffee aficionado,” Dave says as he works, “Like, think of the most manliest man who ever manned, and you’ve got John’s dad. The dude knows everything there is to know about everything when it comes to being a first-class gent. You want to make the perfect cup of coffee? Know how to pick out all the notes in a craft beer? How to roll a cigar? Iron a suit? Mr. E is your man.”

John thought his dad was really overbearing and annoying, but Dave was honestly super envious of the relationship John had with his dad.

It was nice. It was normal.

It was how a child should be raised.

-

Dave keeps _talking_ , and Karkat tries to pay attention but the words slip away, only leaving the cadence of his voice. Dave has a really nice voice, fuck.

He opens his eyes and realizes that Dave still doesn’t have a shirt on. Double fuck. He’s got a nice back, covered with more freckles and scars, and Karkat blinks slowly while his brain struggles to function.

“I have insomnia,” he says, too late to be normal. He pours Dave a glass of apple juice, once it sinks in that he’s supposed to, and grabs himself a slice of pizza. He munches on it as Dave keeps talking, paying no mind to Karkat’s lazy gaze on him. 

“Sounds nice,” he says. He places the cup next to Dave and returns to leaning against the counter, his eyelids drooping. He keeps them slitted open slightly, watching Dave as he moves. He doesn’t have his shades on yet, and Karkat’s pretty sure he hasn’t realized. So he’s going to enjoy the open splay of emotions across Dave’s face and the unobstructed view of his bright, vibrant eyes while he can.

He wants Dave to keep talking but he can’t think of anything to say with his brain chugging along so sluggishly so he stays quiet.

-

Karkat mentions that he has fucking insomnia, and now Dave feels like the biggest dick on the planet. Karkat had problems sleeping and Dave fucking woke him up. Now Karkat was dead on his feet and it was all thanks to Dave.

Dave turns away from the stove to give Karkat a concerned look. “Shit, dude, if I had known that I wouldn’t have barged into your room all unannounced and shit.” he says, “Why don’t you go back to bed, try and get at least another hour or two? I can handle the coffee. I’ll even bring it to you later. Least I can do for waking up.”

-

Karkat sighs. He’s supposed to be looking after Dave, not the other way around. He’s had worse nights, but he’s had a few bad ones in a row so far it’s starting to take its toll. He hasn’t had any coffee yet so, with some luck, he should be able to get at least a little bit of sleep. He can set the alarm on his phone to make sure he doesn’t sleep all day and leave Dave to deal with everything himself.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, pushing himself off the counter. “Thanks, Dave.”

He sleepily wanders back into John’s room and fucks around with his phone, setting the alarm for two hours from now. One of his coworkers texted him back, agreeing to trade shifts with him, so that’s good.

He falls face down onto the bed and is greeted once more with the smell of a stranger. He wrinkles his nose and turns over, onto his back. He doesn’t bother pulling the comforter over himself, just lets his eyes drift shut and hopes he can fall asleep.

-

Dave watches as Karkat pushes himself off the counter and stumbles out of the kitchen.

“No problem, man,” Dave says, “Rest up. I’ll holler if I set the house on fire or some shit.”

Karkat disappears down the hallway, and Dave goes back over to his pizza and takes another bite. Then he goes back over to the stove and picks up the glass of juice Karkat poured for him, and takes a long sip, pulling away with a sigh. Fuck yeah, good shit.

He stands in the kitchen for a few moments in silence, watching the percolator start to bubble.

“Ah, fuck,” Dave mumbles, “still didn’t change his sheets.”

—

Dave calls his boss and lets her know about his accident. She is super sympathetic and tells him to get lots of rest, and to call her if he needs anything.

Roxy is the fucking best m—boss ever.

Dave has no fucking idea how to preoccupy himself when he can’t use his phone or computer, watch TV, or even read. But he is supposed to be resting, and it’s early as fuck, so he decides to go back to bed and see if he can at least rock a quick nap before Karkat gets back up.

He doesn’t even bother with sheets, he just flops down on his back and closes his eyes, and waits for the Sandman to carry him off to Neverland.

He plays the entire Metallica song in his head, because fam it now it’s stuck in there, and once that’s out of his system he drifts off to sleep.

-

Karkat dreams about hospitals. He’s young, and he’s watching his mom lay in bed, pale and with dark bruises around her eyes. A long, steady beep fills his ears and deep, deep down inside him knows she’s gone for good.

He turns around, away from her empty body, and suddenly he’s older again, and Dave is sitting there grinning at him, shades pushed into his hair and red cast noticeably gone. He opens his mouth, but instead of words what comes out is the sound of tires screeching, and Dave isn’t smiling at him anymore, and there’s a large, dark shape heading towards them--

Karkat wakes with a jolt as his alarm sounds and he rolls over to grab his phone and stop the noise. Jesus christ, even when he sleeps he can’t get any rest.

Looking at his phone reveals he has another text from another coworker, agreeing to trade a different shift. Fucking fantastic. He shoots texts of gratitude to the both of them, then messages his manager to let her know what’s up. She won’t be happy but fuck her.

He pushes himself out of bed, stretching and enjoying the feel of it in his muscles. He’s not feeling any better than before, but he still hasn’t had his coffee yet.

Dave isn’t in the living room or the kitchen when Karkat heads in there, which means he’s hopefully sleeping. That’s good. He needs it. 

-

Dave wakes up to his head screaming at him for pain relief, his forehead pounding relentlessly.

“Fuck meee,” he groans, sitting up slowly and rubbing at his eyes. Sunlight is coming through his window now, and he can feel it pierce into his eyes and into the back of his skull. Dave moans and reaches for his shades, pushing them on.

He looks over at his bedside table, seeing the untouched glass of water and opened bottle of Advil. Oh, right—Karkat said Tylenol was better. Dave sighs, and gets up, sluggishly walking over to his door and heading down the hallway.

Dave yawns loudly and stretches his good arm while trying to roll the shoulder of his broken one the best he can. A joint in his neck cracks, and he lets out a satisfied groan.

Karkat’s in the kitchen when Dave walks in. “Oh, cool, you’re awake. I wound up going back to bed, too. You can just flip that element back on to reheat the coffee. Or nuke it if you’re impatient as fuck like me, whatever. Did you manage to get some sleep? Sorry again for waking you up earlier.”

-

Dave walks in, chatty as ever. Ugh, a morning person. 

“S’fine,” he says tersely. He opens some cupboards until he finds a cup and pours himself some coffee. He takes a gulp cold, grimacing, then puts it in the microwave because if he doesn’t get it now he might actually kill Dave the next time he opens his mouth. “I got a bit of sleep.”

He doesn’t mention his nightmare. He has a feeling he’ll be getting a lot of them in the near future.

When the microwave beeps, Karkat grabs his coffee and takes another long drink. It’s much better warm, but it tastes weirdly sweet despite Karkat putting nothing in it. He vaguely remembers Dave saying something about caramel flavor before. Whatever. It’s caffeine.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, remembering too late he’s supposed to be trying to refrain from smothering Dave with his concern. He sees Dave going for the bottle of Tylenol and grabs it, opening the cap and puncturing the tamper seal before he hands it to him. 

He picks up his coffee again and takes a slower sip, hoping it will wake him up soon.

-

Doesn’t look the couple extra hours of sleep did Karkat any favours. In fact, he looks even grumpier. Maybe he has trouble sleeping in places that aren’t his own bed. Yet another thing to tack onto Dave’s growing Guilt List.

Karkat nukes a mug of coffee for himself and Dave heads over to grab the bottle of Tylenol. Karkat beats him to it, snatching it up and opening it for him and handing it to him. Dave mutters a small “thanks” under his breath as he sets the bottle down to fish out two pills from the top.

He left his apple juice half-empty on the counter (a travesty, but at least he doesn’t have to but Karkat to pour him another glass) and knocks it back with his pills.

He looks over at Karkat as he sets his empty glass in the sink. He’s leaning against the counter and sipping slowly on his coffee. Does he not add anything to it? I mean, it is sweeter than just a regular roast, since it’s flavoured, but that never stops Dave from adding a bunch of cream and a few spoons of sugar. If his coffee can’t be confused with an English Breakfast tea when set down side by side, then he won’t drink it.

There’s Dave’s second Karkat Fun Fact of the day: Karkat likes his coffee black.

Dave just took the Tylenol, but his head is still throbbing, and his arm seems extra tender today. Karkat asks how he’s feeling right as Dave is thinking this, and Dave wonders idly if Karkat can see the discomfort pulling at his eyebrows. He’d have to be more conscious of that. Karkat seems to really know how to read him.

“Uh, I’m a bit sore today, to be honest,” Dave admits, “I might just rest my eyes on the couch if you wanna like...entertain yourself with a movie, or some video games. I don’t wanna just lie in bed all day and leave out here by yourself, but I’m also under orders to rest up so...that seems like an even trade-off. If you’re cool with that, that is.”

-

With warmth in his stomach and cupped between his hands, Karkat’s feeling less grumpy by the second. He nods at Dave’s suggestion; everything he read said doing nothing in a dark room wouldn’t be helpful, so Dave dozing on the couch while Karkat reads shit on his phone or watches a movie is a good idea.

“Sounds good,” he says, heading to the living room. He frowns at the couch and wonders if he should sit on the floor so Dave can sprawl across from it; there’s no other place to sit. But ugh, his back already hurts, so he takes a seat on the couch. Dave can just put his feet in his lap or something.

“What movies do you have?” he asks when Dave walks back into the room. He’s still not wearing a shirt and now that Karkat’s more awake he’s feeling that flustered sensation coming back, heat making its home in his cheeks. Back to this, then. Fucking fantastic. He averts his eyes from Dave’s chest, staring determinedly at his face and nowhere else.

-

Karkat agrees to Dave’s plan, and heads over and sits down on the couch. There’s nowhere else for Dave to go, and he isn’t about to tell Karkat to pop a squat on the fucking ground, especially when he didn’t get a good night sleep. Dave will just hike his knees up when he lies down so he doesn’t put his fuckin’ feet in Karkat’s lap. Karkat is getting a bit less grouchy, but Dave is sure that he’s still gonna get a foot chopped off if he pulls something stupid like that.

Besides, that’s about as forward as forward gets. The only thing worse would be if Dave put his head in Karkat’s lap.

...As nice and cozy as that sounds, there’s no way that could happen in a million years.

Dave goes over to the cabinet that houses the mix of his and John’s movie collection.

“Hey, here’s another marathon-worthy series,” Dave says, pulling out a case and turning around to wiggle it at Karkat. “You like Harry Potter? That’s a nice, chill one for a lazy Saturday cooped up indoors, I would say.”

-

Dave says _Harry Potter_ and Karkat perks up like caffeine was injected into his veins. 

“Oh fuck yes,” he says, putting his cup down and getting up to take the box from Dave. He pulls out the first disc and heads over to the TV, popping it in the dvd player and heading back to the couch. He hands Dave the remote and says, “I don’t know how to work your TV, you put it on.”

He finishes his coffee and sits back, settling in and getting comfortable, ready for some shitty special effects and baby-faced actors.

-

Dave grins when Karkat perks up at the mention of Harry Potter. Hell yeah, looks like he chose well. And it’s good to see Karkat coming back around to his usual, still-a-grump-but-far-less-grouchy self. Karkat gets up to take the DVD from Dave and get it set up in the DVD player, then sits back down. Dave joins him, and Karkat hands him the remote.

Dave sits down, pushes a few buttons to set the TV to the right mode for the DVD player, until it shows the title screens with options to hit play, or jump to a certain scene. The swelling, telltale orchestra of Hedwig’s Theme fills the room, and Dave hands the remote back to Karkat.

“Enjoy your trip to Hogwarts,” Dave says.

He leans back on the couch cushions and brings up his legs, bending them at the knee to keep out of Karkat’s space, while still taking up a majority of the couch.

Dave sighs, turning his head away from the screen and closing his eyes, hoping the Tylenol kicks in soon.

-

Karkat is so fucking ready for a Harry Potter marathon. He hasn’t watched these movies in years, and he’d fucking loved them when he was a kid. Sucks that the author is gutter trash but he’d die before letting that ruin it for him.

Dave lays on the couch, drawing his legs up close to him and Karkat frowns as he presses play. He doesn’t look very comfortable like that. As the movie opens, Karkat pokes him gently in the knee to get his attention.

“Hey,” he says. “You can stretch your legs out. It’s fine.”

If he knew Dave better he wouldn’t even bother telling him so. He’d just grab his (long, long) legs and plop them into his lap. But he doesn’t know what Dave’s boundaries are yet, and seeing the scars criss crossing all over his skin makes Karkat cautious. Dave was clearly abused somehow, and Karkat will gnaw his own hand off before he triggers him.

Ugh, he’s starting to sound like his brother.

-

Dave blinks his eyes open when Karkat pokes him in the knee, and he cranes his head up a little to look at him curiously over his knees.

Dave feels his heart stutter and then kick back up when Karkat says he can stretch out his legs. Ohh, boy. Back at it again at Krispy Kreme. Or Krispy Karkat, as it were.

Another day full of hot cheeks and an erratic heart rate.

“Uh, cool, okay.” Dave mumbles.

He unbends his knees and stretches his legs out fully, resting his feet in Karkat’s lap. Thank god he was wearing socks. It was awkward enough doing this, but it’d be so weird to put his bare-ass feet in Karkat’s lap.

Dave has to admit, this is a lot comfier. Karkat’s lap is just as warm and cozy as he figured it would be. A mental image of Dave putting his head in Karkat’s lap and having Karkat run his fingers through Dave’s hair comes to mind, and Dave knocks it away with a broom.

Dave makes a soft hum, shuffling a little to settle into the couch, and then closes his eyes again. He barely remembers he still has a headache, because now he’s focused on trying to get his heartbeat under control.

-

Dave extends his legs, feet landing in Karkat’s lap, and does a cute little squirming motion, getting comfy. Karkat’s hands hover for a moment, unsure where to go, and he ends up putting one on the arm rest and placing his other lightly on Dave’s shin. When Dave doesn’t immediately protest, Karkat relaxes slightly.

Dave is warm though his pajama pants and Karkat wishes he would have thought to grab a blanket for him before they got settled. But if Dave seems cold he’ll get up and grab one. He stares at the screen as images of Harry’s first year play out, only half focusing.

He wonders if Dave usually sleeps shirtless or if he just had trouble putting one on because of his cast. Karkat should have thought of that. He’ll have to ask later. It’ll be awkward, undoubtedly, and even more if Dave confirms it because then Karkat will have to _help_ him, will have to get into his very shirtless personal space and try to keep his cool.

Dave starts to snore lightly somewhere around the time Harry gets his first broomstick, and Karkat realizes his thumb has been slowly moving back and forth on Dave’s leg. He’s not sure how long he’s been doing that but his face lights up like a christmas tree. He’s just glad Dave’s too unconscious to see it.

By the time the movie ends Dave’s barely stirred, and Karkat doesn’t want to move his legs and wake him up, so he reaches for his phone and settles in to read for a bit to the backdrop of the menu music.

-

Dave wakes up a little while later to the sounds of the menu music. He opens one eye to see that, yep, he totally slept through the whole movie. He remembers hearing Harry catching the Rememberall, but he was probably out cold shortly after that.

Dave shifts a little, and then peeks over at Karkat, who’s looking at his phone. He’s thumbing down the screen one-handed, and has his other hand on Dave’s leg.

Sensations slowly trickling back to him with consciousness, Dave feels the warm tickling feeling of Karkat’s thumb running back and forth against his leg. He’s still groggy with sleep, and a soft little sigh escapes him at the feeling.

Dave doesn’t want Karkat knowing he’s awake yet. Thankfully the shades hide the fact he’d opened his eyes, and maybe he could play off his noises as just sounds he made in his sleep.

Dave wiggles his torso a bit, readjusting, then settles back in with a small hum. Karkat hasn’t stopped stroking his leg yet. Perfect.

Dave could lie here in this quiet, soft, warm stillness forever.

It feels...intimate.

Like they could be lovers, relaxing together on the couch, just enjoying the other’s presence and warm touch.

Dave’s heart is pounding against his chest. His ears tingle as blood quickly rushes to them.

He’s suddenly very aware of the fact he never tried to put a shirt on like he told himself he would. That only makes this whole scene even more intimate. Dave’s just been lying here, fast asleep, exposed.

All of his scars on full display for Karkat to look at and judge.

Dave swallows thickly, and feels a coldness wash over him like he’d sunk himself into a bath of ice water. It permeates the soft warmth of the moment, and churns in his gut.

Dave pushes himself up with his good arm, looking away from Karkat and over at the title screen.

“Want to put on the next one?” he asks, keeping his voice low. As though if he talked any louder he’d spoil this moment even more for himself than he already had.

-

Karkat is a few chapters deep when Dave startles him by sitting up. His thumb stops its movement--fuck, when did it start up again?--And he looks over with wide eyes.

Dave’s voice is quiet and his hair is messy with bedhead. He looks so soft around the edges, his ears a light, wonderful pink, legs still in Karkat’s lap. It’s not until this moment that he realizes how gentle and calming this past hour or so has been. Dave’s legs, warm in his lap, his thumb stroking absentmindedly across his pajamas as he read and Dave napped, shirtless and vulnerable, on the couch next to him.

Karkat’s been in this exact position with some of his friends before, but it’s never felt like this.

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “Didn’t wanna wake you.”

He gently lifts Dave’s legs up and off of him, standing up to put the next dvd in. Before he sits back down he remembers his idea from before, about grabbing Dave a blanket, and says, “hold on.”

He hopes Dave doesn’t mind Karkat going in his room alone, even if it is just to dip in and grab the comforter from his bed. When he returns he drapes it over Dave and sits back down. Dave can throw it off of himself if he’s too warm, but at least now he has the option. He lifts Dave’s legs up and places them back in his lap, then grabs the remote and presses play.

-

Karkat lifts Dave’s legs up, touching him like he’s made of porcelain. Dave’s never been handled so...delicately before. He watches as Karkat puts in the second movie, and then tells Dave he’ll be back before walking out of the room.

“Sure,” Dave mumbles, as Karkat rounds the corner down the hall and is out of sight.

Dave is still reclined on the couch, his knees bent up for now. He still feels pretty tired, but his headache has let up. His arm is still feeling a bit tender, but it wasn’t throbbing like before. Dave leans back fully on the couch with a long sigh. He still feels cold, with a weird squirmy feeling in his gut. He closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight until he sees starbursts, then opens them and watches the shapes dance around on the ceiling.

Karkat comes back into the room and stands behind the couch, and Dave looks over at him—

Then his comforter is fluttering down and landing on him, covering him up.

Dave blinks a few times, staring down at the blanket. Karkat comes around the couch and sits back down. He picks up Dave’s legs and Dave is too shocked to even make a sound.

Karkat drapes Dave’s legs back across his lap, adjusts the comforter so Dave’s completely covered, and then hits play on the movie.

Dave uses his good hand to tug a bit at the blanket, bringing it closer to his chin as he ducks his head down. He’s sure he must be bright red right now. He wonders if Karkat can feel how quick his pulse is even down by his legs.

“Thanks,” Dave says softly.

Dave feels warm again, and it’s not due to the blanket. Though it helps, for different reasons. He’s covered up now, not so much on display, scars and all. He feels sleepy and light, but he isn’t sure if he can go back to sleep. A part of him doesn’t want to. Otherwise he’d miss out on this hazy, soft moment.

“Um, that...that felt nice,” Dave forces out, “The thing you were doing before, with your...your thumb. You don’t have to do it, but it was, um...relaxing. Felt good.”

-

Karkat looks at Dave as he says thanks, ready to wave it off, but the words die on his tongue. Dave has the blanket tugged up to his chin and the pink in his ears has spread to his face. Looking at him like this, Karkat is thankful for the sunglasses for the first time, because he’d surely have a heart attack if he could see all of Dave’s face right now.

His own face gets hot as Dave keeps talking. Fuck, he did notice, then. At least he… doesn’t think it was weird? Or maybe he does, but at least he thinks it was relaxing.

Karkat looks away, his heart picking up in his chest the longer he watches Dave. He wishes Dave would put his head in his lap; Karkat could give him a scalp massage. He's surprisingly good at that; his hands are in demand often when his friends get headaches or sleep funny. But _that_ would definitely be weird. 

“Uh, okay,” he manages to get out, clearing his throat. “That’s. Good.”

He bites his lip, then adjusts the blanket so it stretches down over Karkat’s lap, covering Dave’s feet. He returns his hand to its previous position and starts up the slow, gentle motion again--this time intentionally.

He stares hard at the screen, but he can’t pay attention. His skin tingles at every point of contact with Dave and he must look like a tomato with how hot his face feels.

Karkat has a thing about taking care of people. He’s usually a loudmouthed asshole who can’t have a normal social interaction if his life depends on it, but god damn if he didn’t love his friends. He looks after their stupid asses when they drink, gives them a kick in the ass when they need one, and listens to their mind-numbing problems. 

These perks of his generally don’t extend to strangers. Dave seems to be an exception.

-

Karkat agrees to keep stroking Dave’s leg, and Dave feels all the tension seep out of his muscles as he focuses on that single point, warm and gentle.

Dave shifts his head so that it looks like it could be relaxed with sleep, but he doesn’t close his eyes. He’s too drowsy to keep them fully open, just looking at Karkat through his lashes.

He traces over his profile. His strong nose, his full lips. They’re probably just as warm and gentle and soft as Karkat’s hands.

Around the point in the movie where Harry and Ron have crashed Mr. Weasley’s car into the Whomping Willow, Dave needs to get up to use the washroom. He sits up and Karkat helps to pull the blankets off of him, because of course he does. Dave tells him to let the movie keep playing—it’s not like he was watching it anyway.

He had something better to look at.

Dave goes and uses the washroom and that...is an interesting situation, to do one-handed. Dave goes to the sink and washes his...hand. He considers trying to get some soap on his exposed fingers on his left hand, at least. But he decides against it. He wasn’t supposed to get the cast wet, after all. Dave scrubs the front and back of his one washed hand off on the cloth next to the sink and then heads back into the living room.

Dave stands at the couch, hovering, weighing his options.

Karkat looks at him curiously when Dave doesn’t lie back down right away, and Dave bites his lip.

“Um...my head is pretty sore,” Dave mumbles.

That’s a lie. His head feels perfectly fine right now thanks to that nice, relaxing nap and Karkat’s soft touch.

Dave scratches his cheek. “But I took Tylenol not too long ago, so I don’t want to take any more just yet...um...”

His ears are pulsing as his heart pounds. They’re probably dark red by this point.

_Come on, Dave. You’ve already dug yourself in this deep, may as well keep going until you’ve REALLY hit rock bottom of taking advantage of this guy’s abundant kindness._

“Could I...put my head in your lap?” Dave mumbles, “You can say no. I can just go lie down in my room.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dave relaxes back into a doze. Probably. He’s not letting out that soft, adorable little snore so he might not be entirely asleep, but Karkat likes to think he’s getting some decent rest regardless. When Dave sits up, saying that he needs to use the bathroom, Karkat helps untangle him from the blanket so he doesn’t do something stupid like trip and break his other arm.

Dave takes awhile in the bathroom and Karkat falls back into the movie, snorting at the various antics of the characters. When he returns Dave waits awkwardly, saying his head hurts, and Karkat feels a sinking feeling in his chest. He didn’t want this to end so soon, but if Dave needs to retreat to his room Karkat certainly won’t stop him.

But Dave… asks to put his head in his lap. His cheeks are stained with that delightful red and he’s clearly embarrassed. His head must really fucking hurt if he’s asking for something when he’s clearly uncomfortable.

He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears and he traps his lip between his teeth to stop himself from immediately, eagerly saying yes, please, please do that.

“Uh, yeah,” Karkat says, pushing the blanket off his lap to make room. “Go ahead. You don’t have to go to your room.”

Karkat really, desperately doesn’t want him to go to his room. He’s enjoying Dave’s quiet company, the chance to exist in someone else’s space.

-

Karkat says go ahead, and Dave’s beside himself for a moment, beyond baffled that one person could be so nice and non-judgemental.

It makes him feel even worse for using him like this. It makes him wish he had the world’s most searing, pounding headache right now, so that he actually had a decent excuse. Or an excuse at all.

“Okay,” Dave mumbles, “Thanks, man.”

Dave lies back down on the couch, with his feet facing the opposite direction this time, and slowly and carefully lies back and gingerly rests his head in Karkat’s lap.

He doesn’t want to put his full weight down at first, but that involves straining his neck to keep his head elevated. Which might give him a headache eventually, but right now just sounds like a nasty kink in his neck to work out later. Dave shuffles around, resting his head back fully on Karkat’s lap.

Karkat pulls the blanket back across Dave. Dave feels like a toasty cinnamon bun, cooking away in an oven, all soft and gooey and sweet. He nestles into the blankets, and turns his head away from the screen.

It means he has his head facing Karkat’s stomach. Dave takes a slow, deep breath in. Being this close, he can smell Karkat’s sharp, clean scent. Fuck, he smells nice.

He just had to have good pheromones, too. This guy totally checked off all of Dave’s boxes.

Dave was in so much trouble.

“Sorry if I pass out on you again,” Dave murmurs into the blankets, “...you’re really warm. S’comfy.”

-

Dave slowly, awkwardly lays his head in Karkat’s lap. Karkat doesn’t say anything, just pulls the blanket over him, and waits for him to get settled in. It takes a few moments for him to relax, like he doesn’t do this often, and Karkat somehow feels both wired and relaxed at the same time. He’s amazed that Dave is willing to trust him with this, someone he barely knows, who just yesterday caused him a grievous injury.

It isn’t something Karkat takes lightly.

“It’s okay,” Karkat says, feeling his ears heat up at being called comfy. At least the vast amount of him that exists is good for something. “Probably better if you sleep, anyway.”

He hesitates for a long moment, then gently places his hand on Dave’s head, fingertips rubbing gently along his scalp. He stops and asks, “Is that okay?”

Karkat should have asked first, he thinks, remembering the scars. But Dave’s hair is so soft between his fingers that he can’t bring himself to regret it.

-

Dave gives a noncommittal little hum when Karkat says that it’s probably better if Dave sleeps. He feels hazy, but not tired. Incredibly relaxed, but he doesn’t feel like sleeping. He just woke up from over an hour-long nap, anyway.

He wants to enjoy this warmth and this comfort for the short time he’s allowed to have it.

Karkat puts his hand on Dave’s head, and then his fingertips are scratching along Dave’s scalp, running gently through his hair.

If Dave could fucking purr, he would have done it right then and there. Instead, he lets a contented little sigh. But Karkat stops just as suddenly as he began and asks Dave if it’s okay.

Dave doesn’t care he just met this guy yesterday.

Dave doesn’t care that this guy hit him with his car, and now they’re cuddling on the couch together.

Dave doesn’t care.

Dave doesn’t want him to stop.

“Yeah, Karkat,” Dave whispers, “Keep going.”

-

Dave says his name and Karkat realizes it’s the first time he’s heard him say it. It sounds so lovely in his sweet, slow voice, sighed out on a breathy exhale. Karkat wants to hear him say it over and over again, wants to commit it to memory until he can replay it in his mind exactly as Dave lets it fall from his lips.

Karkat swallows thickly, letting his hand move again. He rubs gentle circles into Dave’s temple, hoping it will help with his headache. He runs his fingers up and down, forward and back, in little circles. He lets his fingernails drag lightly across his scalp, enjoying the way Dave’s silky hair slips through them.

He traces lightly around Dave’s ear, lets his hand wander further down and press firm but gentle into his neck, at the base of his skull. He uses the pads of his fingers to rub circles there, moving up and down the part of his neck he can reach.

He’s not paying the movie even the slightest bit of attention anymore, entirely entranced by Dave. The weight of his head in Karkat’s lap, the light reflecting off his hair like spun gold, the noises he makes. It’s easy to fall into a trance like this. He feels like he could do this for hours and never get bored.

He hopes it’s helping with Dave’s headache. He feels guilty, enjoying it so much, when Dave only wanted relief from pain.

-

Dave proceeds to get the best—and first—head massage of his entire life.

He was expecting Karkat to maybe just slightly scratch at his scalp for a bit until he assumed Dave fell back to sleep. But nope, Karkat is going all out. He rubs slow, soothing circles into Dave’s temples, then moves down to the soft, delicate skin behind Dave’s ear, then presses his fingers into the thick cord of muscle at the back of his neck.

Dave makes little hums and sighs and has to bite back honest to god moans at the soothing, warm, gentle, perfect touches that Karkat is giving him.

Dave presses his lips together, then he slowly brings his hand up and pulls off his shades, setting them down onto the comforter. Then he shuffles, pushing his head against Karkat’s hand, pressing into the touch.

He twists his body a little, so he’s lying partially on his right shoulder, turning his head so Karkat can get better access to his neck.

Tingles are going up and down Dave’s spine, and he feels like he’s floating outside of his body. Blissed out, calm, warm. Safe.

In this position, Dave’s nose is practically touching Karkat’s sweater. He breathes in deep, and lets it out on a long sigh.

“Y’ smell real nice...” Dave mumbles drowsily.

-

Dave’s little sighs and small _mmm_ ’s are precious, and Karkat feels his useless crush grow by the second. Dave presses back into his touch, moves to allow Karkat better access, and it helps to know that Dave is at least enjoying this. 

He’s surprised when Dave pulls off his sunglasses, keeping his eyes closed. Does that mean his headache is getting better? 

Then Dave says he smells nice, and it’s such a mundane comment--Nepeta tells him he smells nice nearly every time she goes in for a hug--but it makes warmth bloom under his skin. 

“Thanks,” he forces out. His tongue feels clumsy in his mouth and he feels like a creep, like he’s taking advantage of Dave’s trust. 

So he doubles his efforts to make this the best fucking scalp massage Dave’s ever had, swirling his fingers along sensitive skin, rubbing warm pressure into the tense muscles at Dave’s neck. He activates every pressure point that he knows of within his reach, being incredibly gentle so as to not make the pain worse even for a moment.

And when he’s done with that his hand travels down to Dave’s shoulder, digging into the muscles there, working out knots beneath his fingers. He doesn’t know how much time passes, doesn’t even bother glancing up at the TV to guess. 

He returns his hand to Dave’s scalp, returning to more gentle, lazy motions. 

"How's your headache?" he asks, trying to keep his voice low, quiet, so as to not break the calm that's settled over him.

-

Dave is absolute goddamn putty in Karkat’s hands, going limp and malleable under Karkat’s ministrations. Karkat is going to the gold medal in the Scalp Massage Olympics, pressing into and kneading out tight, sore muscles in Dave’s neck and shoulders that Dave didn’t even know were there until Karkat touched them.

He’s not sure how much time has passed. He tries to listen to the sounds of the movie to give him some frame of reference, but by the time Karkat is rubbing down Dave’s shoulders he’s completely fucking gone, all of his rudimentary functions are turned off, he can’t hear a thing, only feel. Even his entire body goes numb, except the places where Karkat touches. Like all his nerve endings are concentrated, gathered under wherever Karkat’s hands fall.

Dave’s head is limp in Karkat’s lap, lolled off to the side, his nose practically pressed into Karkat’s stomach by this point. If Dave shifts his head it brushes against the fabric. Karkat’s scent surrounds him, his touch makes him featherlight and hazy and soft. And with his shades off, Karkat can see every expression across Dave’s face, watch as his lashes flutter when Karkat presses deep into a particularly tight spot. His mouth parts with small sounds of contentment and downright pleasure, and if he was less sleepy and blissed out they’d probably come out louder.

Karkat’s deep voice drips down into Dave’s ears, like warm, tart syrup. Asking him a question. It takes Dave a moment to catch up and actually turn Karkat’s warm voice into sounds, and then make those sounds into words. Then Dave hums in recognition.

“What headache?” he asks, and his lips pull into a smile.

He wiggles around a bit, readjusting, and buries his nose into Karkat’s sweater, breathing him in unabashedly.

“Leeched it right outta me with yer magic hands,” Dave mumbles.

-

Dave is slow to respond, and when he does he speaks with a slight accented lilt, his voice thick with sleep and languor. Karkat watches, incredibly pleased, as a smile sneaks onto Dave’s face, small but definitely there.

Then Dave nuzzles his face into Karkat’s sweater, into the chub at his belly, and insecurity threatens to poke through these calm moments. Karkat swats it aside, focusing on Dave beneath his hands, on continuing to keep his pain away.

And… is Dave smelling him? His inhales are long against Karkat’s stomach and that’s…

It’s a lot. It makes his stomach flutter, his skin tingle pleasantly, his face burn. Dave had said he smells nice, but now he’s practically huffing Karkat’s sweater. Karkat wants to hold him, wrap his arms around him and run his hands soothingly up and down his back, press his face into Karkat’s neck so he can breathe him in as Karkat chases the pain away.

It’s a really fucking intimate thought. Not that _this_ isn’t surprisingly intimate already. Karkat traces the outer shell of Dave’s ear, gently rolls his earlobe between his thumb and index finger, then continues down, fingers lightly running across his jaw.

“That’s good,” Karkat says, laughing lightly. Pride flickers inside him. He knows he’s pretty good at this, but having Dave melt beneath him so well is a bit of an ego boost.

He hesitates, but asks, “Do you want to get up?” then adds, “You don’t have to.”

He doesn’t want Dave to get up, wants him warm and content in his lap, letting Karkat soothe the pain. But there’s still that niggling feeling of guilt, that he’s enjoying this too much, taking advantage of Dave’s injury. So he gives Dave an out, should he want to take it.

-

Karkat keeps up the massage, his hands moving back to Dave’s ears, running along the outer shell. That alone sends a shiver trickling up Dave’s back, but then Karkat pulls on his earlobe and Dave has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep the fucking moan that desperately clambers up his throat the fuck down, knowing if he let it break free it would be loud.

Karkat’s hands continue down, running down along Dave’s jaw. It’s taking everything Dave has to keep his face neutral right now.

Nobody has ever touched him like this before. It’s so soft, and intimate, and...really, really fucking hot. Dave can feel arousal building down into his belly, can practically hear the sizzle as it drips down.

Karkat laughs so airy and soft and it’s the sexiest fucking noise Dave has ever heard in his life, better than any pornographic moan (though he’s certain Karkat would make some excellent moans, too).

Dave can’t believe this warm, gentle, kind touch from practically a stranger is making him so unbearably horny. There was seriously something wrong with him.

Suddenly Karkat is asking if Dave wants to stop, and a muscle in Dave’s jaw twitches, but otherwise he keeps his face still.

The sexual tension is so thick and heavy in the air Dave is certain he could slice it with a dull butter knife. But maybe it’s only on Dave’s end, and Karkat can feel the vibes of desperate, horny, touch-starved loser ebbing off of Dave like cancerous spores. And now he’s feeling weirded out and is trying to ask Dave to stop, but being nice about it by wording it in a way that it gives Dave the choice to keep being a creep and making Karkat uncomfortable if he wants to.

“I’m...really comfortable,” Dave mumbles, feeling hot with shame. “But if I’m too heavy I can get off, if you want.”

Dave would like to get off, but not like that. But he keeps that thought buried way the fuck down.

-

Karkat snorts. Dave is fucking feather light, like he could ever be _too heavy_. 

“No, you’re--” he has to swallow back the word _perfect_ , holy shit. He’s taking this way too far. But Dave is comfortable, and Karkat can’t bring himself to stop, so he says, “fine. You’re fine.”

He presses lightly into the spot below Dave’s ear, then moves his hand down the cords of his neck until he feels his fingers brush Dave’s collarbone. Karkat jerks his hand away, not wanting to come off as a fucking creep who’s trying to feel Dave up. Even though Dave’s skin is so fucking soft and Karkat wants to touch him all over.

He needs to distract himself before he follows these thoughts any further, so he forces his eyes away from Dave and back to the TV, shocked when he sees that the credits are rolling. Holy shit, he didn’t pay attention at all. He grabs the remote and navigates back to the menu. He starts the movie over, determined to pay attention, and lets his hand sink back into Dave’s hair.

Scalp massage only. No wandering hands this time.

-

Karkat says it’s fine. That Dave is fine.

Then he goes right back to his massage, rubbing just below Dave’s ear, down his neck, to his collarbone—

Fuuuuuck, fuck, fuck fuck fucking fuck.

Dave is biting down so hard on the inside of his cheek he’s certain he’ll break the skin any moment now. Then Karkat jerks his hand away, and Dave wants to cry out _oh thank god_ and _no come back_ at the same fucking time.

Dave’s eyes open and he turns his head—oh, Karkat’s just getting the remote. Dave peeks at the screen, and realizes the movie is over. Karkat brings it back to the title screen, and is about to move to sit up so he can put on the third movie when Karkat just—restarts the movie.

“Don’t you want tooooonnnnevermind...” Dave goes to say, but devolves into a pleased sigh when Karkat’s hand sinks back into his hair.

-

Karkat lets out an amused hum as Dave sighs contentedly. He scritches at his scalp a bit, then lets his hand work mindlessly as he turns his attention to the movie.

He feels pretty fucking content himself. It’s been awhile since he was able to just… cuddle someone. Could this be considered cuddling? He’s not sure but it feels really fucking close. The last time he sat like this, someone curled up and resting in his lap, it ended with a giant fight and plates being thrown at his head, smashing against the wall. He likes to think that this time will go better.

He manages to keep his attention on the movie for the most part, watching as Harry and his friends make their way through their second year, but he finds his eyelids drooping. Sleep is so fucking rare to come by that he lets his eyes drift closed, wondering if maybe he can slip into a doze. Guess this fucking movie is destined to be missed.

His hand slows to a stop, just resting on Dave’s head as he drifts off.

-

Karkat’s hand doesn’t wander the same way it did before, and while there’s a sad, horny part of Dave whining in the corner like a puppy about that, the rest of him—which he believes to be the mature, sensible parts—figure that to be for the best. Any longer and Dave would have not been able to keep himself from popping a boner.

He takes steady, slow breaths. Karkat’s fingers scratching across his scalp and running through his hair still feels heavenly, but he’s able to keep his wits about him a little bit better and just focus on trying to relax and rest.

Around the point Filch’s cat gets Petrified, Karkat’s hand starts to slow down, and then stop altogether. Dave pops open one eye curiously when Karkat doesn’t take his hand away, just leaving his fingers in Dave’s hair limply.

Dave fully opens his eyes when he sees that Karkat has his closed, his head nodding slightly, chin tucking in towards his neck as he sleeps.

Dave smiles. He pulls the blankets up a little closer under his chin, and rolls his head carefully to the side, careful not to rouse Karkat. He tucks his nose deep into Karkat’s soft sweater, breathing in his scent. The smile already pulling at his mouth pulls even wider.

Dave closes his eyes, and is out cold in minutes, floating off into a hazy, warm slumber. Feeling safer than he’s ever felt.

-

Karkat comes back to himself slowly. First he’s aware of music playing in a loop in the background, then an ache in his neck. Warmth in his lap and under his hand. And a full fucking bladder, the reason he woke up in the first place.

He groans, peeling his eyes open. Despite the pain in his neck he feels a lot better than he has in awhile. He looks down to find Dave’s head still resting in his lap, his eyes closed. He’s snoring softly again and Karkat’s heart gives a little squeeze.

He doesn’t want to wake Dave up, but he really does have to pee. He tries to gently slip his hands under his head to lift it off, giving him the opportunity to slip out from under him, but the moment he moves Dave’s eyes open.

-

Something touches the back of Dave’s head and his eyes pop open.

Karkat’s looking down at him, looking a bit sheepish, and says something under his breath about needing to use the washroom. Dave sits up, letting Karkat get up and walk out of the room.

Once Karkat is out of sight, Dave realizes that Karkat...touched him while he was asleep and Dave didn’t leap out of his skin.

Dave swings his legs off the couch and awkwardly staggers to his feet and over to the DVD player. He pulls out Prisoner of Azkaban and pops it in next. Fuck yeah, this one was his favourite. He isn’t exactly sure why. Maybe it was the overall creepy vibe, the fact Daniel Radcliffe looked exactly like how Dave pictured how Harry looked in the books (perfect messy hair, just the right amount of sass), or maybe it was the cool time travel aspect. Yeah, time travel plots were cliché as fuck, but Dave didn’t care. It was still a cool concept, and this movie did it justice. You don’t fuck with time, Hermione made that blatantly clear to Harry. That girl closed off all her time loops seamlessly and still managed to get straight As in all her classes. What a badass. This movie always made Dave wish he could have cool time powers himself. Not that he’s sure what the hell he’d even do with them, but whatever.

Dave heads back to the couch and sits down as Karkat comes back into the room, and Dave grins at him as Karkat sits back down on the couch.

“Put on Azkaban. This one’s my fuckin’ fave. Which one did you like best?” Dave asks.

This can be his third Karkat Fun Fact of the day. Which Harry Potter book/movie did Karkat like the most?

Hm. Actually, maybe it was the fourth Fun Fact. Because the third had to go to “gives amazing head massages”.

-

When Karkat walks back into the living room Dave is sitting on the couch with the third movie up and ready to go, and Karkat feels disappointment wrap around him. He quickly tries to quash it; he got a fucking restful nap on top of being allowed to touch Dave and see him vulnerable. There’s no need to be a greedy asshole.

Dave hasn’t put his shades back on yet and Karkat’s heart rate picks up as Dave smiles at him. His smile reaches his eyes, making them crinkle in the corner and Karkat wants to kiss him so bad it’s almost a physical ache.

But he doesn’t, because that’s fucking weird.

He plops down on the couch and says, “The fifth one, probably. I like the idea of Dumbledore’s Army and starting up a rebellion under the authority’s nose. But the third one is my second favorite. I like Lupin. Also Malfoy gets his face punched in, which is a highlight.”

-

Dave fishes his shades out of the blankets and slips them on. There’s no lights turned on in the apartment right now, they only light coming from the television. But considering his concussion on top of already being light-sensitive, Dave figured better safe than sorry. It’ll help keep the headaches under control.

And if it doesn’t, Dave could always ask Karkat for another head massage.

The idea of something like that getting to happen again makes Dave’s chest feel like it’s filled with cotton candy. He feels light and fluffy and sweet.

He nods to himself as Karkat tells him his favourite movie from the series. “Yeah, that tracks. It’s so weird that they managed to make the longest book into the shortest movie,” Dave says.

Dave looks away from the screen. He isn’t supposed to be watching, even if he’s got shades on to sheild his eyes. Which sucks because this one is his favourite, but nothing he can do about it. Dave looks down at the Monopoly board still on the coffee table and up to Karkat.

“You wanna get back to our game?” Dave asks, “Also, are you hungry? We can make something for lunch, unless you just want more of that leftover pizza.”

-

Karkat hums, contemplative. As much as he’d like to keep being lazy, if Dave has actual ingredients he should probably make them something relatively healthy. Or at the very least more healthy than pizza. 

“What food do you have?” Karkat asks, standing up and heading to the kitchen to poke around. He doesn’t bother pausing the movie, giving it up as background noise. “We can play some more after lunch. Uh, whose turn is it?”

He hadn’t bothered to take stock of the kitchen before, always too distracted or exhausted. He’s a fairly decent cook, though, so if Dave has anything worthwhile he’ll be able to whip them up something edible. And it’ll be nice to have actual food, for once, instead of processed garbage. His body will probably thank him.

Karkat’s pretty sure the only reason he’s not hideously unhealthy is because of a decent metabolism and the exercise his therapist put him on as anger management. Which will have to be put on hold while he’s looking after Dave, unless he gets so epically pissed he needs to go for a run or something.

It’s a possibility, but so far things with Dave have been going exceptionally well.

-

Karkat gets up and heads into the kitchen and Dave isn’t far behind, heading over to the fridge and clicking his tongue while he looks through.

John usually handles the grocery runs, because any time Dave went he came back with nothing but non-perishables and processed food. The first time Dave had ever had a “home-cooked meal” was when he moved in with John.

John, the sweet and beautiful boy and wonderful roomie that he was, stocked the fuck out of the fridge before he left for Washington, and Dave still hasn’t really looked around to see what all he got since John only left two days ago. Dave sees a package of boneless chicken breasts, and pulls it out.

“There’s this chicken,” Dave says, setting it on the counter, “Uhh, we might have rice, too.”

John had taught Dave a few of his Dad’s recipes, and he also had a little box full of flash cards that both his Nana and his Dad had written down a bunch of recipes on. So if Dave got really stumped, he could just check those cards out for ideas. But there was a few Dave had committed to memory just because they were easy to do and Dave had enjoyed the shit out of them when he and John made them.

Dave opens up a cabinet and roots through until he pulls out a large bag of rice.

“Chicken n’ rice. A staple.” Dave announces, as though he’d had any clue that was a thing for eighteen fucking years. “That should be good enough, right?”

-

Dave opens the fridge and peeks in, looking around like he’s not sure what’s in there. Karkat raises an eyebrow as he triumphantly pulls out some chicken and then goes to grab a bag of rice. Chicken and rice is easy as fuck.

“Can you get the rice started?” Karkat asks. That shouldn’t be too difficult with one arm, right? 

“Do you have any veggies?” he asks, already rummaging through the fridge. There’s no green onions but there are regular onions and some garlic in the crisper drawer, so Karkat grabs those and sets them on the counter. With a frown, he opens the freezer to reveal a bag of frozen peas and carrots. It’ll do.

He pulls open drawers at random until he finds a knife and a cutting board and starts chopping. When he’s done he rinses the chicken off and cuts it into strips. He’s about to start plundering the pantry for seasoning and oil when he realizes that he might be being just a little bit fucking rude, acting like this is his house.

“Uh,” he says, sheepish, “I need seasoning. And oil. And a pan.”

-

Karkat asks Dave to start on the rice, so Dave gives a little two finger salute and a smile. “Sure thing, boss.” he says.

He’s relieved Karkat doesn’t consider him entirely useless, and is actually giving him a job to do. John had taught all about washing rice and the rice-to-water ratio for the rice cooker, plus the pot inside the cooker had those markers on the side to help Dave measure it out. He sets about pouring some of the rice into the bottom of the removable pot in the cooker, then takes it over to the sink to rinse the rice.

Karkat is a flurry of activity already, opening up the fridge and getting out garlic and onions, and then grabbing some frozen veggies out of the freezer. Oh, right. Veggies. Dave had forgot about those.

Karkat manages to find a knife and grabs the cutting board leaning against the backsplash and sets to work chopping up the onions and garlic and chicken. By that point Dave has finished washing the rice and has put the pot back in the cooker, sealed the lid, and pressed the “cook” button. There. Rice was done.

Dave looks up at Karkat, who is over by the cabinet suddenly looking apprehensive. He asks Dave about seasoning and shit, and Dave blinks. Was Karkat feeling like he had to ask? He’d had no problem finding his way around the kitchen a few seconds ago.

“John keeps all the seasoning in a tin in that cupboard there,” Dave says, pointing. “Oil is just over by the stove, and pots and pans are in this cupboard here.” Dave kicks out a leg and taps a bottom cupboard with his foot. “Uh, the rice is cooking. Is there anything else you want me to do?”

-

Dave points out all the things Karkat needs and he doesn’t seem upset about Karkat ransacking his kitchen, which is good. Some people are real fucking particular about that. Karkat is one of them.

“No, I’m good,” he says, heading over to the cupboard. He glances at Dave, standing awkwardly next to the counter, and says, “Actually, can you get the plates and shit out?”

He turns his attention back to cooking. Stirfy is easy as fuck. You basically just shove a bunch of veggies into a pan with some oil and let it cook, stirring every so often. He seasons the chicken, a bit lighter than what he usually does because he doesn’t know how Dave prefers it; but if his taste in sandwiches is any indication, his tastebuds are probably dead anyway. 

It doesn’t take long until everything’s done and he turns off the burners, stepping back. He’s hungry as fuck since all he had was a bit of pizza and some coffee that morning, but it’s Dave’s house and Dave is the injured party here. He should take however much he wants first. 

-

Karkat gives Dave one more task of getting out some plates, so Dave dutifully goes over and pulls out plates and knives and forks and sets it all up on the counter. He and John don’t have a dining table or anything, they just eat all their meals at the couch, so they can bring their food over there when it’s ready.

Karkat seems like he’s pretty confident in the kitchen, and whatever he’s doing smells fucking amazing. Dave doesn’t want to just go and sit down while Karkat stays in the kitchen to cook, so Dave leans against the counter and just shoots the shit about random stuff.

*Remember how in Order of The Phoenix Fred and George turned an entire hallway into like a rainforest. With like trees and a swamp and shit, to piss off Umbridge? Also didn’t Hermione have that whole thing where she advocated for house elf rights? Where the hell was all that shit in the movies, they never touched on it at all. I guess they gotta keep down runtimes and shit, but that was a pretty big part of her character they just sort of fucking glossed over. I mean, shit, it’s the entire reason she even kisses Ron in the book! He’s taking about how they gotta save the house elves from the kitchens and Hermione is like ‘oh god I can’t NOT fuck him’ so she just runs over to him and they finally dispel nearly a decade of sexual tension and suck face right there in the middle of the battlefield while Harry watches on like the fucking third-wheel he is. Also speaking of Deathly Hallows, did it not PISS you off that they couldn’t use some goddamn special effects to give the little girl who was playing his mom in that flashback some eyes that weren’t fucking CHARCOAL black?? Like what the fuck was that about. The books AND the movies go on and on about how Harry has his mother’s eyes—it’s Snape’s final fucking words to Harry—and then in Snape’s Pensieve visions, Lily has eyes darker than fucking Snape does. What the fucking shit. Even Daniel Radcliffe didn’t have green eyes, but they—*

Then Karkat is taking the pan off the heat and the switch on the rice cooker flicks over from “cook” to “warm”, and just like that their meal is ready to go.

“Holy shit, that looks super fucking good.” Dave says, looking at the chicken and veggies fried up in the pan. Dave gets out a large spoon and scoops himself out some rice, and then a portion of the stir fried chicken and veggies.

“Thanks for cooking, dude. A’ight let’s fucking feast.”

-

Dave talks the entire time Karkat is cooking. Every so often Karkat will make a noise of acknowledgement--a grunt or a ‘hmm’--but Dave seems to need absolutely no encouragement to keep going. It’s as fucking obnoxious as it is endearing; and it’s about Harry Potter, too, one of Karkat’s weaknesses. 

“Jesus fuck, you can’t _not_ talk, can you?” he asks. Then he wants to kick himself for being an asshole. This is why people don’t fucking like him.

“Daniel Radcliffe tried contacts before they shot the first movie,” he adds after a long pause, his first actual comment during the entirety of Dave’s ramble. “He’s allergic to the dye. They have no fucking excuse for not changing the little girl’s eyes in the flashback, though.”

Dave gets his food and Karkat quickly follows, piling his plate high because he’s _starving_ , and smelling the food as he cooked didn’t help at all. His stomach growls loudly and Karkat scowls down at it.

“It’s just stirfry,” Karkat mumbles at the thanks. They go back to the living room and sit down and Karkat takes a bite, scrunching his nose up. It’s passable but he’s definitely made better. Hopefully Dave won’t mind.

-

They take their food back over to the couch. By this point in the movie, Harry and Hermione are getting whipped around by the Whomping Willow as they try to rescue Ron from the Shrieking Shack.

Dave looks away from the TV and down to his food. He scoops up some rice, a chunk of chicken and some veggies and pops it into his mouth.

Dave makes an impressed, appreciative mmmm, and quickly chews and swallows so he can grab another bite. Once he chews and swallows again he finally says, “Shit, you’re a really good cook. This is so fuckin’ good.”

Dave scarfs down a few more bites. He wants to slow down and savour it but he’s honestly starving, and it’s too good not to inhale. He keeps making small, pleased sounds as he chews, unable to hold them back. John was a decent cook and while Dave certainly appreciated having home-cooked, healthy meals, John didn’t really know how to liven up the dishes. He followed the recipe strictly and barely seasoned anything.

Karkat’s cooking had an actual kick to it, and the flavours all worked together perfectly. Dave didn’t even need soy sauce or anything with the rice, the stir fry so good on its own he didn’t even give it any thought.

“Fuck, I might have to keep you.” Dave says. And then his heart instantly stops.

God fucking dammit. He must be a contortionist, because it was uncanny how long he could keep his foot buried inside his mouth.

Dave attempts to backpedal a bit. “You’re gonna have to teach me how to cook like this, otherwise I might have to find some way to convince John to let us hire you as our live-in chef, once your time as live-in nurse wraps up. Jump from one job title into another. Maybe get you on handyman shit, too. I’d ask if you’re good with your hands but you already proved that earlier...”

Wow, Karkat was right. Dave really can’t not talk. And it was really starting to become a problem for him.

-

Karkat can barely concentrate on his own food while Dave makes a plethora of amazing sounds next to him, shovelling food into his mouth like Karkat’s shitty stirfry is the best thing he’s ever tasted. He can’t _not_ focus on those noises, his brain immediately conjuring up scenes where they might be echoed in situations entirely unlike the current one.

There’s a heat stirring in his belly and he looks away, embarrassed.

“I’m a mediocre cook at best,” he says. “I just know how to season shit.”

Then Dave says he wants to _keep him_ and that heat in his stomach roars to life. He doesn’t even have any time to react, other than the flaming of his cheeks, because Dave keeps talking. This has to be flirting, right? 

“Uh,” Karkat says. He clears his throat. “Thanks. A lot of my friends have chronic pain issues so I learned shit about massage therapy and pressure points and all that. I’m not a professional or anything but it beats dropping a hundred bucks every time you need a massage.”

Even Sollux has reluctantly agreed that Karkat’s “not entirely terrible” with his massages. It’s a badge of honor that Karkat rubs in his face as often as possible.

“If you sit on the floor I can give you an actual shoulder rub,” he says. He doesn’t know how his voice is so calm right now, because he feels like a goddamn mess. “If your headache comes back.”

-

Karkat’s pretty humble about his prowess in the kitchen, but Dave had expected that.

I mean, the guy didn’t even seem to realize that he was farm-fresh, locally-grown, quality grade-A babe, so obviously he probably thought his cooking skills were as ‘mediocre’ as his looking skills.

Karkat explains a bit about how he gave lots of his friends massages, and Dave feels a strange mix of emotions. The first is a warm affection that pulls over him like a fuzzy blanket. Karkat was a really fucking sweet guy, it’s no wonder he would look after his friends like that. But another part of him feels a strange pang of what Dave can only akin to jealousy. Maybe disappointment?

Dave wasn’t special. Karkat was just a helpful and caring person who gave all of his friends incredible massages. He wasn’t doing it because he was into Dave, and was trying to make a move. They had just met, after all. That seemed to be the one Fun Fact about Karkat Dave couldn’t seem to remember. The only one that really counted at the end of the day, if Dave didn’t want to get his hopes up any higher.

He and Karkat may be able to stay in the same room as each other with Karkat able to tolerate Dave’s company for several hours at a time without wanting to throttle him, but they weren’t friends. The thought makes Dave’s chest lurch.

Okay, so they weren’t exactly strangers. Not anymore, at least. But that didn’t make them friends. Acquaintances. Yeah. That seemed like the right term for where they were at.

The head massage didn’t mean anything. Karkat was just being nice, and doing his job by looking after Dave.

...Even if Dave hadn’t even had a headache at the time, and was just being pathetic and gross by taking advantage of Karkat’s kindness.

And he’d fucking gotten turned on by it. When it was something that Karkat did platonically all the time for his friends.

God. Dave was fucking hopeless.

Karkat offers to give Dave a shoulder rub if his headache comes back, and Dave nods in acknowledgement since his mouth is stuffed full of food.

Maybe he should hold off on Tylenol so his headache comes back in full swing, so he’ll actually have a decent reason for accepting Karkat’s offer for another massage.

-

Dave nods but he doesn’t say anything and Karkat berates himself mentally. He should have just kept his mouth shut. It seems like no matter what he does he manages to make Dave uncomfortable somehow, and it fucking sucks. Of course he doesn’t want to let Karkat rub his shoulders; the scalp massage was probably a one time thing, with Dave in a lot of pain. Karkat is the worst piece of shit imaginable for hoping it happens again.

He eats his food, keeping his eyes determinedly on the screen but paying attention to Dave in his peripheral. Just like before, he misses the sound of Dave’s voice. The stuff that falls from his mouth is often inane and ridiculous, but having him quiet like this feels wrong, somehow. Different from before, when they were both sleepy and relaxed.

Karkat finishes his food quickly, setting his plate aside and desperate to break the silence.

“Do you want to keep playing?” he asks, gesturing at the Monopoly game still spread out on the table. 

-

“Hell yeah, dude.” Dave says when Karkat offers to start their game back up. “I think it was my turn up next last time.”

Dave gets up and grabs Karkat’s plate and goes into the kitchen to drop them in the sink. He pops open the fridge and pulls out the apple juice, and the bottle of soda.

“Want a drink? Juice? Soda?” Dave calls, pulling out some glasses.

-

“Soda,” Karkat calls back, counting out how much money he has left. $204. He winces.

He briefly contemplates swiping some from the bank while Dave is out of the room, but neither of them have been cheating thus far. If he was playing with any of his other friends he wouldn’t hesitate; they would know better than to leave their money unguarded. Dave is new to this, though, and until he cheats Karkat won’t either.

-

“Soda it is,” Dave says, grabbing some ice cubes out of the bowl in the freezer. He drops them into one glass and then unscrews the cap on the cap on the soda bottle. This requires him to pinch the opening of the bottle with his pinky and ring finger a bit awkwardly as he twists off the cap with his index finger and thumb. Then he picks up the half-empty bottle of soda and...ugh, this is weird to do with one hand! He tries to bring out his left arm, stuck being bent at the elbow due to the cast, to brace the bottle against as he tips it with his right.

It doesn’t quite allow him to control how quick the soda comes out like he thought it would, however. Soda sloshes messily out of the bottle and fills the glass up within moments, and before Dave can start to tip the bottle back it spills over the edge of the glass and onto the counter.

For fuck sake.

“Motherfuck,” Dave mutters under his breath. He sighs and goes to grab a cloth to quickly mop up the spill.

-

Karkat is broken out of his thoughts by the sound of a loud sloshing coming from the kitchen and he frowns, confused. Then he remembers that, oh yeah, Dave has a fucking broken arm. He’s a goddamn idiot.

He gets up and walks into the kitchen to find Dave trying to wipe up a large amount of soda with a laughably small washcloth. He reaches over to take the cloth from Dave, wringing it out in the sink and bringing it back, because he doesn’t know where the fuck the bigger ones are.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, running the washcloth along the counter. “If I’d thought for a singular second in my life I would have seen this coming. Did your cast get wet?”

He wipes down the cup and the bottle of soda and looks at Dave, eyes drawn to his cast as he tries to see any moisture. He doesn’t know what you’re supposed to do if a cast gets wet, just that you’re supposed to try to keep it dry. What constitutes wet, anyway? Is a little bit okay or, if someone sprays it with a squirt bottle, does it dissolve or something?

Ugh, more research to do tonight when he inevitably can’t sleep.

-

Karkat comes into the kitchen and Dave tenses up. Fuck, here it comes, Karkat’s going to yell and tell him what a big fucking idiot he is and—

Karkat just takes the cloth from Dave wipes up the spill, apologizing like he’s the one that just spilled soda everywhere. Dave just stands there for a moment stupidly, watching Karkat’s back. Then he snaps out of it and goes back to the drawer to get a bigger cloth to wipe up the spill. He kind of just grabbed the first one he saw on top in his rush to try and clean up the mess without being noticed.

Dave checks his cast after he hands Karkat the bigger cloth. “No, looks fine.” he mumbles, “Uh...I can get that. Sorry.”

-

Karkat shakes his head as Dave keeps cleaning up. He grabs the soda and pours it into the cup, then pours a cup of apple juice for Dave. 

“It’s fine,” he says. “Shit’s gonna be awkward while you figure out how to work around a broken arm. There’ll probably be a few more accidents.”

He hands Dave his cup, trading him for the dirty washcloth so he can rinse it in the sink. When he turns around Dave is looking at him with a blank face. It’s so unused to the open expressions he’s seen before that Karkat’s eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Just let me know if you’re having trouble with something; I’ll help. It’s what I’m here for.”

Technically Karkat is here to make sure Dave’s concussion symptoms don’t worsen, but he’s kind of just… taken over looking after Dave as a whole. It’s easy to want to take care of him; Dave has a sort of vulnerable air about him, hidden beneath his frenetic energy and constant stream of words. Karkat wants to wrap him up in a blanket and also kiss him senseless.

-

Karkat not only handles cleaning up the rest of the spill but also finishes pouring their drinks, explaining how stuff like this happens, and that it was likely to happen again. And that it was okay if it did.

It sure was a hell of a juxtaposition, going from his mistakes always being met with a silent thumbs-down followed by a beatdown, to this.

Karkat hands Dave his glass, and Dave grips it tightly out of fear it’ll slip out of his numb fingers and shatter onto the floor. Would Karkat just mop up that spill, clean up the glass and tell Dave accidents happen, then? How far could Karkat’s patience be stretched?

“...Okay,” Dave says, stupidly. It’s all his brain can think to say right now. “Um...thanks.”

Dave heads back over to the couch with his drink and sits down, setting his cup down on the table. Karkat comes back into the living room, setting down his glass of soda before going and changing over the movie to Goblet of Fire.

Dave stares at Karkat’s broad back as Karkat crouches down to change out the discs.

Karkat’s so fucking good. He’s patient and understanding, but also knows how to keep up playful, ribbing banter. He’s funny, and interesting, and handsome. And his modesty about all of it just makes him even more endearing, even if Dave wants to grab the sides of Karkat’s face and tell him how good he is.

And then maybe pull him in and—

Dave quickly averts his gaze from Karkat to pick up his juice and gulp down a large sip. Fuck, fuck. He really needed to stop this. This was getting out of hand.

Karkat sits down and starts the movie. Dave sets down his cup and clears his throat, reaching for the dice.

Okay. Okay, okay. He could do this. They could just sit here with some wizard movies playing in the background while they played a board game, like two regular dudes who were barely even acquaintances. And it didn’t have to devolve into a bunch of flirty bullshit that would just make Karkat uncomfortable.

Dave rolls a six and lands on Park Place, which he owns. Not exactly an exciting way to kick the game back off. He scoffs, and hands the dice over to Karkat.

-

Dave’s face is still placid and empty as they go back to the living room with their drinks. Karkat sets up the next movie and wishes he knew what was going on in Dave’s head. Is he embarrassed about spilling the soda? Is he pissed at Karkat for barging in to help without being asked? Did Karkat say something wrong?

It’s impossible to tell, and that makes anxiety curl tight beneath his ribcage. He wants to ask but he doesn’t want to press. 

He’s finding that he really actually likes Dave, beyond his silly little crush. He thinks he’d like to be friends with him after this, if Dave will allow it. They mesh together well, and Dave clearly needs people to support him, to give him a better sense of self-worth so he doesn’t go around offering to pay for damages on the car that hit him.

Karkat’s not letting that one go.

But the point is, he likes Dave. He wants Dave to like him back.

Dave breaks out of his odd blank expression slightly after he rolls and Karkat feels a tiny bit of tension fall free from his shoulders. He grabs the dice from Dave and their fingers brush, leaving his hand tingling. He tries to ignore it.

He rolls a ten, landing on Water Works, his own property, and hands the dice back over to Dave. He guiltily lets their fingers touch again, because he’s a terrible person and he hasn’t felt that swooping sensation in his stomach in so long.

-

Dave rolls and gets an eight, putting him in Reading Railroad, which he owns.

Karkat could just lean over and scoop the dice off the board himself. As soon as Dave places his top hat down and sees he’s landing on his own property again, he picks up the dice in the same movement and hands them back to Karkat.

He brushes Karkat’s fingers on purpose. Dave’s hands are clammy, and he hopes Karkat doesn’t notice.

Dave leans back on the couch. “I’m begging you, break this cycle of boring and land on something other than your own property. Otherwise this game is fucking cursed.”

-

Dave speaks and a bit more tension drains from Karkat.

“What, has your luck run out?” Karkat asks, trying to lighten the mood. Their fingers brush once more as Dave passes the dice, and Karkat tries not to read into it. Dave probably doesn’t even notice, or if he does he doesn’t care. It’s just a small touch; Karkat had spent over an hour with his hand wandering through Dave’s hair. This shouldn’t make him _want_.

He rolls an eight and scoots his tiny dog over to the chance space. He pulls a card with baited breath. He fucking hates the chance spaces.

“Advance to boardwalk,” he reads, relieved. Then groans loudly as he realizes he doesn’t have enough money to purchase the deed. He slumps back, arms crossed, and ~~pouts~~ grumbles, “You’re right, this game is cursed.”

-

Dave has to hold back what he’s sure would look like a pathetically besotted smile at Karkat’s adorable pouting.

“Am I allowed to give you money to help purchase a deed?” Dave asks, “One good deed deserves another, right?”

Dave would wink at Karkat, but, shades. He points a finger gun at him instead to really help the pun land.

“Besides, I want to break this fucking curse-streak. So how much do you need?” Dave asks, looking through his colourful bills.

His smile drops. Fuck, he only had $33 dollars left! That’s what he gets for getting distracted by a cute boy.

“...Okay, I don’t think I’m gonna be of much help after all,” Dave says sheepishly, “This game is definitely cursed.”

Then, Dave perks up.

“Oh shit, just rob the fucking bank, dude! Flip a fucking coin, maybe we can turn this fuckin’ thing around with a little bit of fate.”

-

Dave fucking _finger guns_ at him and Karkat puts his head in his hands. He can’t take this. This terrible, awful, adorable idiot is going to snap his already thin control if he keeps this up. When he thinks he can look at Dave again without grabbing his stupid face and planting a kiss on him, Karkat looks up.

“You’re not supposed to help me win, moron,” he says. Not one of his usual explicitly descriptive insults, but his brain is still fried. When Dave brings up robbing the bank, Karkat frowns consideringly. He typically saves his coin flip for late game, to swipe a color set or keep himself in the game, but why not? This isn’t the cutthroat game of Monopoly he’s used to.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing the coin off the table. “Alright, I’m gonna rob the bank for $400. Wish me fucking luck.”

He flips the coin, grabs it out of the air, and slaps it onto the back of his hand. When he lifts his hand up to reveal heads, he grins. “Oh fuck yes. I’m buying the absolute shit out of that deed. Some rich jackass is out $400.”

He grabs the card, victorious, and places it amongst his others. He smiles at Dave when he passes the dice back, feeling some of the levity from the previous night return.

-

Karkat does the sexiest fucking coin flip Dave has ever witnessed, and Dave’s poor, mildly-concussed and hopelessly gay brain short-circuits, sputters, and comes to a complete stop. Dave’s certain there’s smoke coming out of his ears.

His brain is basically running on fumes on this point, and it takes all of it in order to hold out his hand when Karkat goes to hand him back the dice.

Dave rattles the fucking shit out of his dice, hoping it’ll help bring him back down to Earth. They’re playing fucking Monopoly, for Christ sake, there was no fucking need to be so goddamn thirsty just because Karkat made things as mundane as a coin toss look hot.

The dice clatter across the board. Ten. Dave moves his piece around the board and fucking groans when he lands on Pennsylvania Railroad. He landed on another one of his fucking properties.

“Oh my fucking god, fuck this shit. Gimme that coin, I’m robbing the bank, too. Cha’ boy only has $33 goddamn dollars to his name, so it’s not like I can do jack shit until I get some scratch anyway.”

Karkat hands Dave the coin. There’s absolutely no fucking way Dave is doing the sweet fucking flip-and-catch thing that Karkat pulled off. And he’d just make himself look like more of a loser if he tried it and failed in the most spectacular fashion.

Dave stares down at the quarter in his hands for a moment, and then hands it back to Karkat.

“Actually, you do it.” he says, “I think you leeched all my good luck from yesterday out of me, anyway.”

It’s a pretty lame fucking excuse, but Dave couldn’t give a shit. He will totally waste his one-time coin toss to get to watch Karkat do it for him.

-

Karkat can’t suppress the small laugh that bubbles out of him as Dave hands him back the coin. Dave is back to his animated, expressive self and Karkat couldn’t be more relieved. Dave is still handsome with his face carefully blank, but Karkat much prefers the splay of emotions across his features. 

“If you insist,” he says, flipping the coin. He snatches it from the air and, before he reveals whether or not Dave’s attempted robbery was successful, he adds, “Terezi would have a shitfit. You’ll have to flip your own coin when you play with us.”

 _If_ , Vantas, for god’s sake. _If_ he plays with them. To cover up his blunder he removes his hand, revealing another heads. Good for Dave, bad for him.

“These assholes need to upgrade their security, apparently,” he says, reaching for the cash. “How much do you think you got away with?”

Technically you’re supposed to announce it before the coin flip, but whatever. Terezi isn’t here to screech in his ears about the rules.

-

Karkat flips the coin up into the air, let’s it spin, snatches it back and palms it. Hot, hot, hot.

“I think I scampered off with an easy $500.” Dave says, leaning down to pick up the dice.

That seemed fair. Karkat only took as much as he needed to buy the deed and still be left with some money to play with. Dave is in a bit more dire straits, but doesn’t want to take thousands and make the game totally unbalanced. There wasn’t any fun in that, anyway.

Karkat puts the money in Dave’s pile and Dave hands him the dice.

“Alright, now that we’re both a little richer, maybe we can really get the fuckin’ ball rolling again.” Dave says, grinning.

-

Dave asks for $500, which is reasonable. Now they’re both out of their game-saving last resort, though. And no punches have even been thrown yet. Amazing what can happen when he’s not surrounded by antagonistic fucknuggets who don’t know how to behave themselves.

Karkat rolls a two and huffs, but collects his $200. Then rolls again and gets two fives, landing him on st. Charles place. He buys the deed, since he already has one of the properties in that color, and picks up the dice.

“Please not doubles,” he mutters, giving them a shake and letting them drop to the table. He gets a five and lets out a puff of relieved air. “Oh fuck yeah, another Monopoly.”

He buys st. James place. That leaves him with only $84 but two color sets. Maybe he should have tried to get more money from the bank, but he can definitely work with this.

He hands the dice back to Dave with a smirk.

“Maybe I did steal all your luck,” he says.

-

Dave takes back the dice and rolls, getting a seven. He lands on Chance. Dave blows out a breath that makes his bangs flutter, leaning over to pick up a chance card and flipping it over to read.

“Advance to St. Charles Place,” Dave reads out loud, then he looks up at Karkat. “Dude. This game hates me. You just bought that one!”

It brings him almost completely around the board, so he passes Go. Karkat automatically grabs $200 from the bank and drops into Dave’s money pile.

“Alright, how much for landing in St. Charles?” Dave sighs, “You totally took all my luck. Must have sucked it out of me with those magic hands of yours.”

It’s what Dave deserves, he supposes, for faking a headache.

-

Karkat snorts and wiggles his fingers in Dave’s direction. Hearing Dave talk about his ‘ _magic hands_ ’ makes a blush spread across his face, a feeling he’s becoming alarmingly familiar with the longer he spends with Dave.

“The one thing I’ve been blessed with,” he says, then checks his card. “Ten whole dollars, douchebag.”

If Karkat had any money at all to work with he’d start throwing houses down, but he’s poor as fuck right now. He’ll have to wait until he passes Go again. He collects his money from Dave and rolls again. Seven spaces lands him on Indiana Avenue, one of Dave’s properties. He huffs and passes back the ten bucks plus some.

-

Dave grins when Karkat hands back the money. “Shouldn’t have waggled those magic fingers at me, Karks. You must have accidentally transferred some of the luck back.”

The nickname drops out of Dave’s lips before he can stop it, and it makes his heart jolt, but it also feels...right, somehow.

There’s a lot about Karkat that feels like that.

That gets his heart running but just feels right.

Dave is convinced that Striders just aren’t capable of finding their soulmate. That maybe they don’t even have one. Like his bloodline is a glitch in the system, exempt of a phenomenon this world has known since the beginning of time, as far back as anyone can remember.

Besides, even if Dave did have a soulmate out there, there is no fucking way Dave would score someone as incredible as Karkat. He didn’t fucking deserve Karkat.

And if he was Karkat’s soulmate, well...then there was something seriously fucked up with this whole soulmate business. Because Karkat deserved someone just as incredible as he was, not some fuck-up like Dave.

Of course, none of this stops the thoughts running through Dave’s head. The wishful thinking, the fantasies (sexy and otherwise), and the pining. Oh lord, the pining. When he isn’t getting lost in Karkat’s warm, soft, deep brown eyes, he’s getting entranced watching his mouth move. Thinking about how those soft, full lips would feel moving against Dave’s own.

Karkat says he was only blessed with the ability to give great massages, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Karkat had so much going on that it was practically too much to handle. In fact, it was definitely too much for Dave to handle.

“You really should give yourself a bit more credit, man. I mean, I’m all for self-defacing humour as much as the next guy, but shit,” Dave scoffs lightly and shakes his head, “You’ve been blessed with a lot fuckin’ more than just magic hands, that’s for sure.”

What the fuck is he saying.

Now Karkat is going to ask him what Dave means, and Dave will have to tell him all the things he likes about Karkat, and then Karkat will know Dave has the fucking hots for him and he’ll be so creeped out he’ll grab all his shit and walk out the door.

-

Dave calls him _Karks_ , the nickname dropping from his wonderfully pink lips like he says it every day, like it’s habit, and Karkat’s heart beats in his ears. He normally hates when people butcher his name, but from Dave it makes him feel warm inside. Like it means something.

Karkat is honestly in awe of Dave’s laid-back approach to pretty much fucking everything. Or maybe ‘laid-back’ isn’t the word. His ability to take things as they come, turn it into something good and worthwhile. It’s impressive. Admirable.

Then Dave is saying he’s been blessed with more than just magic hands and Karkat looks away. Dave probably doesn’t mean it, is probably just being nice, but it makes Karkat want to squirm anyway. His self-worth is tied directly to how much he can help his friends. He used to be pretty bossy (he still is, but less so), ordering people around because he knew what was best for them. Luckily his friends all have backbones of steel and squashed that (mostly) out of him, so he found other ways to help and support them.

Like forcing water into their hands when they’re drunk and belligerent, or playing therapist when they have a romantic tragedy, or saving up to buy a specialized braille keyboard. Or researching how to relieve pain with massage.

Dave doesn’t know that, though. Doesn’t know that Karkat is reading into this too much, that when Dave says _you’ve been blessed with more than magic hands_ Karkat hears _you’re worth more than what you can do for people._

He’s so fucking stupid.

“Uh, thanks,” he chokes out. He runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip, watching Dave from the corner of his eye.

“Better roll before that luck comes back to me.”

-

Karkat doesn’t press Dave for the dirty details, and Dave can’t tell whether he feels relieved by that or not.

He feels like he should say something anyway. But they are in the middle of a game, and Karkat’s already squirming a little in his seat, looking away from Dave and seeming massively uncomfortable by the topic.

Karkat runs a hair through his thick, perfectly messy curls and bites his lip, and Dave watches his teeth as they drag across his bottom lip, rapturously.

Karkat tells him to roll, and that snaps Dave from his trance. Somewhat.

Dave leans over and scoops up the dice from the board and gives them a rattle, then tosses them down. Six. That brings him to the Community Chest space.

“Oh, god,” Dave says, reaching over to the stack of Community Chest cards. He flips it over to read.

“Grand Opera opening, collect $50 from every player for opening night seats,” Dave reads out.

He looks up at Karkat and gives him a cheeky, lopsided smirk. “Sorry, my dude. Looks like that luck you gave back to me is sticking around for a bit.” Then he holds out his hand. “$50 buckaroos, please.”

-

Dave doesn’t say anything more on the matter and Karkat is both relieved and disappointed. Usually when Karkat says self-deprecating things people laugh and move on, or in his friends' cases, tease him mercilessly. It’s just what they do. 

But Dave’s insistence that he has something going for him, that he’s a decent, worthwhile person is new, and he’s not sure how to act. It makes him flustered and awkward, but… in a good way? Maybe? Dave is delusional, obviously but it’s nice to hear. Part of Karkat wants to talk shit about himself even more, just to hear Dave tell him he’s wrong. But he’s not going to fish for compliments like an insecure asshole, even if that’s exactly what he is, so he vows to try to keep the self-deprecation to a minimum.

“Ugh, fuck you,” he says, slapping his last $50 bill into Dave’s open palm. He’s down to a measly $26 now. If he doesn’t get lucky and hit Go soon he’s gonna have to start mortgaging shit.

He grabs the dice from the board before Dave can pick them up and pass them over. He rolls a twelve, thank fuck, landing him on a railroad neither of them own. His next roll is an eleven, putting him past Go and onto the relative safety of Oriental Avenue. 

“Looks like there’s enough luck to go around,” he says, lips twitching up into a little smile.

-

Dave smiles back, moreso at seeing Karkat smiling again than anything.

He picks the dice up off the board, and rolls a seven, landing on Illinois Ave.

“Fucking finallyyy,” Dave says in relief.

It’s his first full colour set! And of course it’s for the red properties, his favourite colour coming through in the clutch for him.

Dave checks out his money situation. He’s got $751 bucks to play with.

“Okay, time to finally crank up the Oh Fuck factor,” Dave announces, grabbing $450 out of his pile and passing them to Karkat. “Gimme three houses. I’m about to paint that red corner in your blood, homie. You better hope and pray you just scoot right on past it and land in the yellow zone. So you can promptly piss your pants.”

-

Karkat glares down at the board like it’s betrayed him as hands Dave the three tiny houses and collects his money. What the fuck, he had two monopolies and a deed for every color _except_ red. This is bullshit.

“Keep talking shit, fuckface,” Karkat says, snatching the dice up. “I’m gonna kick your ass so hard your vertebrae will pop out of your mouth one by one like a fucking novelty pez dispenser.”

He rolls a seven, landing on States Avenue, and throws down the $140 for the deed. His third color set, and now he owns everything but the utility and railroad on that side of the board. Dave is going to be _fucked_. Just as soon as he can put some fucking houses down.

He glares angrily at his $86. He definitely should have robbed the bank blind.

-

Dave’s grin threatens to split his face in fucking two. Fuck yes, they were right back on their witty, playful, and decidedly graphic banter.

“Yeah?” Dave says with a sneer, “Big talk for the barfpuppet who needs to roll a seven or lower in his next turn to not get his asshole ruptured when the Fuck Train comes to town and slams into it at top speed.”

Dave picks up the dice and rolls a nine, taking him to another Community Chest space. He picks up the card and laughs.

“Income tax refund, collect $20,” Dave announces, looking pleased as fucking punch.

He leans over Karkat to dip into the bank himself and pluck out a $20 bill. There is absolutely zero need for Dave to get all up in Karkat’s personal business in order to accomplish this, but Dave is trying to snag an extra $20 and hide it beneath the other as he grabs the money out of the box.

“Paaardon my reach,” he says, feigning a strain in his voice as he stretches over to grab the money.

Dave remembers that he is still fucking shirtless, so this maneuver is starting to come off even more flirtatious than he had intended (which isn’t at all, he just wanted to block Karkat’s view of the box, that’s all—) but Dave sits back down properly in his seat and casually sets down his money.

He picks up the dice and holds them out to Karkat. “Man, that little bit of luck you transferred me is really paying off. It’s almost like you’re trying to let me win, or something.”

-

Karkat is so fucking flustered, watching Dave’s muscles move beneath his skin--that is suddenly so very, very close to Karkat--as Dave leans over him that he’s not able to push him back. By the time Dave is sitting there, smugly holding out the dice, Karkat is still gaping at him.

“Y-you,” he stutters out. He lifts his arm but instead of reaching for the dice he shoves Dave’s shoulder, harder than he intended to. “Try that again and I’ll break your other arm, Strider, just fucking watch me. You already robbed the bank once.”

He grabs the dice, shaking them angrily, and drops them to the table. He rolls a six, moving him to New York Avenue, and sneers at Dave.

“Hah!” he says. “Eat shit, motherfucker.”

This is slightly more along the lines of the Monopoly he’s used to. All that’s missing is Terezi’s cackle and Vriska trying to sneak in her weighted dice or convince them to use a d20. And the rampant violence, of course.

-

“Oh, please,” Dave says, “If you did that then you’d have to spoon feed me, dress me, bathe me...I’d be fucking useless for weeks. There’s no way you’d submit yourself to that torture.”

Dave picks up the dice and rolls, getting a nine. He passes Go, gets another Community Chest, and picks up a card to read out loud.

“Doctor’s fee, pay $50.” Dave reads, then he snorts, “Pftt. Ch’yeah, I wish.”

Dave grabs a $50 from his money and tosses it into the box. He grabs the dice and hands them back to Karkat.

-

Karkat scoffs. 

“I’d leave you to suffer,” he lies. “And you’d deserve every second of it. You’d probably act like both your arms are fine anyway. A months long state of denial to the detriment of everyone around you.”

Although being around Dave for weeks sounds nice, he’d prefer it without him having to be injured.

He rolls the dice, hoping for a large number. He gets a six, which isn’t great but it gets him over Dave’s properties.

“Not this time, fuckmunch,” he declares. “As soon as I pass Go I’m putting down houses and you’re gonna have to run my gauntlet of terror.”

-

Dave pouts when Karkat manages to evade his properties. But he isn’t about to back down from this battle of banter anytime soon.

“I’ll get you next time. Only one of us can plant our flag on Fuck Mountain.”

Dave rolls the dice. He gets five, which puts him on a Chance space. Dave sucks some air through his teeth.

“Hoo, boy. Let’s see what we got,” Dave says, reaching for the stack of Chance cards. He reads the card. “Make general repairs on all your property. For each house pay $25. Oh, goddammit.”

Dave sighs, grabs $75 bucks out of his pile and tosses it into the bank box.

“The woes of home-ownership,” Dave sighs.

-

Karkat tries not to show just how amusing he finds Dave’s comments, but he huffs a laugh through his nose at the melodramatic sigh.

His own roll of nine lands him on shortline railroad, which he can’t fucking buy because he’s dirt poor. He lets out a sigh of his own. Next roll will take him past Go and he can finally give Dave the ass kicking he deserves.

-

Dave clicks his tongue. “That’s two railroads you’ve landed on that you can’t afford. That must sting.”

He rolls the dice, and gets an eleven. It puts him on Tennessee Avenue, which he landed on before so he already knows how much he owes Karkat for landing on it. Dave plucks out $16 and places it in Karkat’s pile, then pats Karkat on the knee.

“There you go, sugar, buy yourself somethin’ nice.”

-

Oh, the _audacity_.

“You’re the worst sugar daddy I could have asked for,” Karkat sneers. His knee tingles where Dave touched it. 

He rolls a five, which is just enough to put him on Go. He doesn’t bother grabbing his $200, instead yoinking two houses from the box and placing one on New York Avenue and the other on Tennessee. They’re two of the most landed on spots of the game, even though Dave’s gonna have to make it around the board once more before Karkat has a chance of making any cash on it.

“It’s a long term investment,” he says.

-

Dave smirks at the affronted look on Karkat’s face when he calls him _sugar_. He had put on a tiny bit of his drawl for that little line (he couldn’t say something like ‘sugar’ without it triggering his Southern blood, it seemed). He hadn’t quite meant to slip up, normally he was a lot more careful about it.

He and his Bro had lived in Houston all of Dave’s life. And as far as Dave knew, Bro had always been there. Bro didn’t talk much, but when he did, he didn’t have the slightest accent.

Dave picked his accent up from the teachers and students in his classes, when he actually managed to make it to class. But Bro told him that Striders don’t talk like that.

_Just because you are stupid doesn’t mean you have to sound like it, kid. Knock it off._

He’d literally had to train the accent out of him, and for the most part he hardly had to think about it much now. But it did still tend to slip if he wasn’t paying attention. Thankfully, there wasn’t the threat of Bro here to give him a beatdown for fucking up. Even still, whenever he slips up he tends to reel it back in just as quick.

But Karkat seems...well, he certainly looks crabby, but he’s got a tinge of colour painting his cheeks. Dave’s smirk pulls even wider. Time to test his theory.

“Aw, babydoll, don’t be like that,” Dave says, slipping right into his drawl. It’s like sliding on a worn-in pair of shoes. Familiar and comfy.

He leans over and bumps his and Karkat’s shoulders together, and sparks shoot up Dave’s shoulder from the contact, but Dave doesn’t let himself falter.

Dave sits up normally and picks up the dice and rolls like nothing had happened. He rolls double ones, which puts him in Free Parking. He and Karkat hadn’t wound up doing a money pool or anything for Free Parking, so Dave just picks up the dice and rolls again. He gets a ten, and he taps along the board and then groans.

“Oh, fuck me,” he grouses, “Go to Jail.”

He moves his little top hat over to the jail, and sits back.

That’s what he gets for being such a flirt.

-

Karkat is going to have a heart attack and die, and it will be all Dave Strider’s fault. The combination of Dave’s irritating smirk and hearing the word _babydoll_ in a southern fucking accent is too much for his stupid, pathetic heart to take. 

Blood rushes to his face so fast he feels dizzy, and Dave bumping their shoulders together doesn’t help in the least. And Dave is still shirtless. This is it, this is how Karkat dies.

He’s too tongue tied and flustered to manage anything that resembles words, and that’s even more embarrassing. All he can do is look away, hoping Dave is too distracted by the game to notice his hot face, and try to calm himself down.

He doesn’t even have like, a t _hing_ for southern accents. He’s never heard one before and thought ‘oh, that’s sexy.’ Until Dave opened his mouth. There was a soft lilt to his voice earlier, when he was resting in Karkat’s lap, but he hadn’t thought anything of it because it was slight. Now it’s heavy and thick, and Dave’s voice echoes around his head.

He’s just doing it to be a little shit. Karkat can’t give him the satisfaction of being bothered.

“Arrested by the accent police,” Karkat says as Dave puts his piece in jail. He’ll probably pay his way out next turn, which means Karkat won’t be able to pass by his properties without worry, which kind of fucking sucks but whatever. 

He rolls a ten, which sends him to the ‘just visiting’ spot in jail and he smirks at Dave.

“I’ve come to rub my freedom in your face,” he says, rolling again. An eight lands him back on Tennessee Avenue, unfortunately close to Dave’s properties.

-

“Came to visit your daddy in jail, so kind of you, sweetheart,” Dave says, and he puts the accent right the fuck back on.

Karkat had gone uncharacteristically quiet during the rest of Dave’s turn, and Dave could see in his peripheral vision that Karkat had looked away, clearly trying to hide an embarrassed expression and a blush. Dave wouldn’t stand for it. He wanted to see it. Karkat looked good when he was flustered.

“And look at that, you slipped me a key to the place through your mouth during our conjugal visit,” Dave says as he drops $50 into the bank, bailing himself out of jail.

Dave grabs the dice and rolls a seven, putting him on yet another Community Chest, goddamn.

“Xmas fund matures, collect $100.” Dave reads, still in his accent because he’s a turd.

Karkat seems catatonic at this rate, so Dave reaches over to grab the money from the bank himself (maybe he can run away with a couple extra hundreds).

He leans across Karkat again, turning to look right at him as he goes, fingertips just grazing the $100 bills.

“...’Scuse me, darlin’,” Dave breathes out, sneering.

-

Oh Dave _definitely_ noticed Karkat’s unfortunate response to his accent because he lays it on even thicker, calls him _sweetheart_ , and talks about a fucking conjugal visit. He’s going directly for the jugular. Karkat’s blood is rushing in a distinctly southern direction to match Dave’s accent and if this keeps up Karkat is going to have a problem.

When Dave leans over him to reach for the money, he turns to look at Karkat and Karkat is so fucking distracted by the way his lips form the word _darlin’_ that he panics and stands up, nearly knocking Dave off the couch. And then he’s standing up for no reason like a complete tool.

“Gottagotothebathroom,” he spits out, turning tail and running away like a fucking coward.

-

Dave nearly stumbles and falls onto the floor as Karkat abruptly gets up, quickly saying something all in one breath about using the bathroom, and then he’s out of the room in a flash.

Dave rights himself on the couch, and blinks rapidly at the corner of the hallway where Karkat just slipped out of sight.

...Shit.

“Shit.” Dave says, out loud. The accent is gone.

He totally made Karkat uncomfortable. What the fuck was he thinking? Dave shouldn’t be flirting with Karkat like this, Karkat is just here to make sure Dave recovers from his concussion. He’s not here because he likes Dave.

Karkat said he liked romance. Someone like that probably believed wholeheartedly in the concept of soulmates, which meant that Karkat was probably holding out until he found his perfect match.

And that sure as fuck wasn’t Dave.

Dave leans back on the couch with a groan. Fuck, Dave was so fucking stupid. He was the biggest asshole on the planet.

Dave looks up at the screen, where Goblet of Fire is still playing. Moaning Myrtle is helping Harry solve the riddle of the next challenge in the Triwizard Tournament, and making Harry extremely uncomfortable in the process as Harry sits naked in the tub in the Prefect’s bathroom.

Dave is about as clingy and desperate as that fuckin’ ghost chick.

Dave leans forward on the couch, and sighs. Karkat still isn’t back yet. Dave leans forward and grabs his phone off the table, and pulls up Karkat from his contacts. He stares down at his name for a moment, his thumbs hovering on the screen. His heart is pounding.

Fuck. He really fucked this up. He didn’t want Karkat to hate him.

Dave types out a message, but doesn’t hit send, still weighing his options. What if Karkat really did just need to use the washroom, making this message from Dave even more awkward and weird.

Maybe Dave shouldn’t acknowledge the fact he knows Karkat was embarrassed? Dave deletes his message and types in something else.

TG: are you pooping

-

Karkat closes the bathroom door behind him and leans against it heavily, breathing deep. He slips his eyes shut but all he sees are flashes of Dave--his perfect lips, his soft hair falling onto his forehead, the jut of his jaw. His eyes snap back open and he grits his teeth, trying to get himself under control.

Dave was just messing around. He was a flirt who wanted to get under Karkat’s skin because he thought it was funny, because they’ve been bantering all last night and today. _Karkat_ is the one who is making it weird, just like he always does when someone shows him the barest scrap of attention.

He turns to the sink, scowling at his ugly, red face in the mirror. He splashes some cold water onto his face and tries to think unsexy thoughts.

Like how he’s supposed to go back out there after making an ass out of himself like that.

Maybe he can just… stay here. It’s a nice room. Bright. There’s water. He can stay here until Dave goes to sleep and then slip out of the apartment and never look back.

He’s being overdramatic again, but he can’t help it. Shame coils sharp and hard in his gut as he clenches the counter. Is he taking advantage of Dave, staying here when he clearly can’t fucking control himself? 

Before he can follow that train of thought any further, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He fishes it out, wondering if it’s a coworker bailing on trading shifts, but it’s just a message from Dave. Asking if he’s pooping.

Karkat buries his face in his hands.

 _This_ is the person he’s acting so ridiculous over?

He doesn’t respond, straightening up and heading back to the living room. He raises an eyebrow at Dave.

“Really?” he asks, like he didn’t just come close to having a mental breakdown in the bathroom.

-

Karkat doesn’t respond, and Dave’s heart kicks up even faster in his chest as panic starts to settle in.

Then suddenly Karkat is walking back into the room, causing Dave to perk up in his seat. He looks like he’s back to his usual grouchy-but-soft-around-the-edges self. Dave keeps his expression neutral to keep the relief off of his face.

“Just making sure you didn’t fall in,” Dave says.

Karkat flops back down on the couch, and doesn’t try to press himself against the arm rest to get as far away from Dave as possible. So he wasn’t as disgusted in Dave as Dave figured he would be, after that stunt. Dave makes the conscious decision to stay the fuck out of Karkat’s personal bubble the rest of the evening, as a good acquaintance should.

“It’s your turn, by the way.” Dave says after a moment.

-

Dave doesn’t mention his embarrassing display earlier, but his face is back to being closed off. Not as much as earlier, but still blank, missing the amusement he’d had before Karkat freaked the fuck out. Karkat grits his teeth, pissed at himself but grateful Dave isn’t asking him about it.

He’s dropped the accent, though, which is probably a blessing, since Karkat has no goddamn control over himself.

“Right, sorry,” he says, grabbing the dice. He rolls a ten, putting him on Water Works, and over Dave’s properties without a problem. The next roll is a seven and that puts his small dog back onto the short line railroad, which he still doesn’t have enough money to purchase. He slumps back into the couch with a sigh.

-

“Don’t worry, Big Kat, you’ll get one of those railroads one day.” Dave says.

He almost reaches over to pat Karkat on the shoulder, but stops himself. Personal space, personal space, he just went over this—

He also dropped another fucking nickname, which really wasn’t helping his case. But he couldn’t fucking help it, they just kept slipping out!

It was weird as hell, but Dave felt like he’s already known Karkat for years. Dave isn’t sure if he believes in reincarnation or whatever the fuck, but if he did, he would swear he had met Karkat in a past life.

It felt like Dave could meet any version of Karkat, against any plane of existence or reality, any multiverse out in the cosmos, and he’d like them right away.

Karkat could be a weird alien with horns, and pointy teeth, and Dave is certain they would still find a way to be friends.

Dave’s never felt like that about anyone before, and the idea of it freaks him out as much as it makes him...excited. Dave doesn’t know what meeting your soulmate feels like, because, well...obviously he hasn’t met them yet.

If Karkat wasn’t his soulmate (and Dave is certain that he _isn’t_ ) then Dave can only imagine what it was going to feel like when he actually did. Needless to say that soulmate would have some big fucking shoes to filll, if it wanted to surpass the way Karkat made him feel.

Dave picks up the dice, and rolls an eight. He lands on the B&O Railroad, and grins. Alright, his third railroad!

Dave tosses $200 into the bank, and Karkat hands him the deed for the railroad.

Time to go back to what they were both comfortable with, playful banter.

“Aw, shucks, did you want a railroad? There’s one more left, maybe I’ll let you have that one, just to be nice.” Dave says, a smug smirk on his lips.

-

Dave calls him Big Kat and Karkat doesn’t eviscerate him. If anyone were here to see this their mouths would be hanging open in shock at how much Karkat is _not_ throwing a shitfit right now. (If he’s being honest with himself, he kind of likes it.)

Then Dave scoops up B&O Railroad and Karkat changes his mind. He hates everything about Dave and about this game.

“Get fucked, shitlord. I’ll end your pathetic, miserable existence,” Karkat scowls.

He rolls a six and passes Go, landing on Mediteranean. He only takes $100 and puts a house on St. James Place. All his orange spaces have a house and he’s got $202. He’s gonna get that last railroad if it fucking kills him.

-

Dave leans forward and grabs the dice.

Hell yeah, Karkat was back to his grouchy, nasty self. Perfect.

Dave rolls the dice, and gets a four. It put him on Marvin Gardens, which he owns. Dave clicks his tongue. He picks up his Marvin Gardens deed and looks over at Karkat.

“Trade you Marvin Gardens for North Carolina Avenue,” Dave bargains.

-

“Absolutely fucking not,” Karkat immediately rejects. That would give Dave another Monopoly and Karkat would still be missing one of the yellows. “Try a trade that’s worth my fucking time.”

He considers the board and says, smirking, “I’ll give you North Carolina if you give me Marvin Gardens _and_ B&O Railroad,” he counter-offers. There’s no way Dave will take that deal.

-

Dave’s jaw drops. He at least thought Karkat would have considered it.

“Whaaat? Dude, come the fuck on, look—fuck, okay, hear me out, you fucking bullheaded chode—“

Dave leans forward and jabs at different spots on the board.

“Look, you’ve already got Ventnor and Water Works. So even though you don’t have a full monopoly, you’ve still got three spaces in a fuckin’ row that could dick me over. Look, I’ll even sweeten this fuckin’ honey pot—check it—if I land on Atlantic Avenue before you do, I’ll buy the deed myself and give it to you for free. It doesn’t get any sweeter than that.”

Dave leans back and turns to level Karkat with a determined frown.

“So do we have a deal or not?”

-

Dave’s insult startles a laugh out of him that he quickly smothers behind his hand.

“I thought you wanted to be _nice_?” he taunts. It’s a shitty deal Dave is offering. The green set is one of the pricier ones, and if Karkat lands there after Dave puts houses down he’s fucked. But Dave’s determined look is hot enough to sway him slightly. 

“Throw in an extra hundred dollars on top of that,” he says. “Marvin Gardens, Atlantic if you land on it first, and $100.”

-

“Finally, you pulled your dick out of your ears and listened to reason.” Dave says.

He sticks out his hand. “You got a deal, Kat.”

-

Karkat rolls his eyes but shakes Dave’s hand, ignoring the way his heart stutters when Dave calls him _Kat_ again. Vriska is going to tear this poor sap to shred. She’s nowhere near as merciful as Karkat.

They make the trade. Karkat takes Dave’s hundred dollars and immediately invests it into a house on Virginia Avenue. His next roll takes him to Oriental Avenue, a particularly popular spot for him this game.

-

Dave watches as Karkat lands on Oriental Avenue yet again, and feels a bit of a pang of regret for giving up his spot on that high-traffic property.

But, he’d gotten Karkat’s phone number out of it, so the feeling doesn’t last too long.

Dave picks up the dice and rolls double fours. He moves eight spaces, and lands on Park Place, which he owns. He huffs out a breath, ruffling his hair.

He rolls again, and gets an eleven. He passes Go, and lands on Vermont Ave, and sighs.

“How much for Vermont again?”

-

“Twelve bucks since I have the color set,” Karkat says, and collects his money. Dave’s finally coming up on his side of the board and Karkat furrows his brows, wondering if he should drop the cash on an extra house or play it safe. He decides to take the risk, plopping a little house on States Avenue. If worst comes to worst he can always mortgage shit.

He rolls an 11 and lands on community chest. He sends a useless prayer up to the Monopoly gods and apparently they’re listening for once.

“Life insurance matures – Collect $100,” Karkat reads off. “Fuck yes!”

He grabs his money and puts it into his little pile. When he glances up he notices credits rolling across the screen and blinks in surprise. How fucking long is this game gonna take?

He gets up and switches the dvd to the fifth movie; his favorite. He’s tempted to ask Dave to take a break so he can actually watch this one, but he’s even more tempted to see Dave land on his properties so he sits back down and says, “Your move, idiot.”

-

“I was waiting for you to change the movie, shit-twizzler.” Dave retorts flippantly as Karkat sits back down.

Dave rolls a seven, and lands on Pennsylvania Railroad, and huffs out a little sigh of relief that he landed in a safe spot on this side of the board.

“Your roll, shartstick.”

-

If Dave thinks he can out-insult Karkat he has another fucking thing coming. He grabs the dice and rolls a three, putting him safely at Free Parking, just in front of Dave’s properties.

“How fucking magnanimous of you,” Karkat says. “Take your turn, you insipid cock-juggling spunk chariot.”

The movie plays in the background, already forgotten as Karkat curls a lip up in feigned distaste at Dave. He’s having a lot of fun right now, trading insults back and forth. Dave keeps up with his sharp tongue impossibly well and doesn’t even seem phased by it, or his perpetually pissy demeanor. 

Karkat was hoping that the more time he spent with Dave the more unappealing he would be, and his crush would fall to the wayside. It seems like he’s fucking cursed, because the opposite is happening.

It’s fucking stupid. Karkat is holding out for his soulmate. He’s pretty thoroughly convinced at this point that unless someone is literally bound to him by fate he’s destined to scare them off with his reprehensible personality, if his shitty looks don’t do it first. Logic and feelings rarely mix well together, however.

-

“You’re gonna be taking a ride in my spunk chariot when you get thoroughly wanged in your next roll.”

Karkat would have to roll real fucking low in order to land on Dave’s red properties, since he’s starting at Free Parking. But now that he’s being a good noodle and not shamelessly flirting with Karkat maybe the Monopoly gods will be merciful and let Karkat get a 4 or lower next round.

Dave rolls the dice and gets a four. There, see, now that just needed to happen to Karkat next, for fuck sake—

Dave lands on New York Avenue, and runs a hand through his hair.

“Fuuuck,” Dave moans.

It’s the first time one of them has landed on the other’s property that had a house on it. Looks like Karkat gets first blood.

“Alright, yuck it the fuck up, you mangy assclown. How much do I owe you?”

-

It takes every ounce of self control for Karkat not to let out a victorious whoop, instead keeping his excitement to a pleased, beaming grin.

“$80, fuckweasel,” he says, holding his hand out impatiently. He has a decent amount of money now, but Dave’s not going to hit his properties again for awhile so he doesn’t buy any more houses.

He rolls a nine and his grin gets, if possible, even wider. 

“Get fucked,” he says pleasantly.

-

Dave hands over the $80. “Here you go, cockbreath.”

His stupid fucking crush was making him soft. Dave needed to start being a bit more ruthless from here on out or he was gonna go bankrupt before the game had even truly begun. They both just started putting properties down! This was when the game really started to get interesting.

Dave picks up the dice and rolls a seven. He taps along the board and makes and then gasps a little “oh, shit” under his breath as he lands on Atlantic Avenue. The fucking property he’d promised Karkat he’d buy and give to Karkat for free.

Dave looks at his money. $258. He just can’t afford it. He lets out a little sigh of relief. Karkat said he only had to buy if he could afford it, so he’s in the clear for now, unless Karkat lands on Atlantic first. Hopefully either that happens and Karkat buys it his own fuckin’ self, or if Dave lands here again he’ll have a lot more money to throw around and it won’t immediately bankrupt him.

He hands the dice back to Karkat and leans back on the couch.

-

Karkat could demand that Dave mortgage his properties in order to uphold his end of the deal, but instead he frowns and takes the dice. So far this has been a shockingly friendly game, shit-talking included, and he doesn’t want to ruin it by being _too_ big of an asshole.

His next roll takes him back to Short Line Railroad and oh fuck yes, the Monopoly gods are really on his side today because now he can buy that shit with money to spare. 

He snatches up the deed and waves it victoriously in the air.

“Not gonna be able to collect the set now, taint-jockey,” he says, tucking it away with the rest of his cards.

-

Still leaning back on the couch, Dave just smirks at Karkat. Acting laidback and unbothered to try and rile him up even more.

“I told you I’d let you have it, didn’t I?” Dave says.

He sits up and grabs the dice off the board, and rolls double sixes. He moves twelve spaces and pouts a little as he lands on Luxury Tax. He grabs $75 bucks from his pile and tosses it into the bank box, then picks the dice back up for his second roll. He gets six, which puts him on the Income Tax space.

Dave’s pout turns into a frown as he considers his options. He’s got three houses on the board, 3 out of four of the railroads, and the electric company. He isn’t sure the exact value of his current assets, but it definitely exceeds $2,000. Meaning he would be better off just forking over $200, which basically just meant not taking his Go money this time around.

Dave scoffs, and reaches over his for his glass of apple juice, which he’s barely touched this entire time.

“Your move, dicknugget.”

-

“You didn’t _let me_ have shit, cockeater,” Karkat scowls. He can’t even rub his victories in Dave’s face without the douchebag acting high and mighty. Maybe he should stop being so nice. Vriska would have gutted them both by now and he, at least, would have deserved it.

Dave has to forfeit his $200 for the turn and Karkat smirks. Serves him fucking right.

Karkat rolls an eight, moving him past Go and onto Baltic Avenue for the first time during the game. He doesn’t buy it, despite having Mediteranean. Instead he uses his money to put a house on St. Charles and a second one on New York Avenue. He still has $194, he could put down another house, but he likes having the comfort of a bit of extra money.

-

Karkat slaps down even more fucking houses, and Dave stares down at New York Avenue, sending out a fervent prayer that he doesn’t land there again because he would be well and truly fucked.

Dave rolls a seven, putting him on St. Charles Place, where Karkat just fucking put down a house.

This was it. This was Dave’s punishment for faking that headache, for getting all up in Karkat’s personal space and calling him all those pet names in his stupid Texan accent, this was his comeuppance for being a big dumb horny idiot.

“Shiiiit,” Dave groans, “Alright, shitshute, how fucking much?”

-

“50 dollars, dunderfuck,” he announces after checking his card. Dave’s close to his orange properties so he puts down another house on Tennessee with sheer fucking glee. 

He’s never had this many properties to his name before. Playing one-on-one was so much better than playing with six or more batshit insane windbags. He actually stood a chance of winning this one instead of having to watch from the sidelines as his friends viciously sniped at each other after he’d gone bankrupt.

His next roll is a ten, scooting him one space past Dave’s Electric Company and he smiles, all of his ugly teeth on display, as he scoops the dice up to drop into Dave’s open palm.

“Good luck, douchecrumpet.”

-

Dave drops the dice with a clatter and gets double 6s, moving him twelve spaces over to Indiana Avenue, one of his red properties. He rolls again, and whistles when he gets an eleven. Two high rolls in a row, fuck yeah.

That takes him to Pennsylvania Avenue, which he also owns. An uneventful turn, but at this point he’s grateful for it. He’s well on his way back to Go, so he can make up for that $200 that fucking Income Tax took from his last go-around. And he evaded any more of Karkat’s properties.

Dave drops the dice into Karkat’s hands. “Knock yourself out, bloated sploogeballoon.”

-

Dave avoids his properties with ease and he scowls. So much for the Monopoly gods being on his side with this one.

He takes the dice and rolls a seven, landing on Free Parking once again. As long as he doesn’t roll super low he should be fine next turn. 

He finds himself having to actually think of his insults, now, having run dry of his usual go-tos, which hasn’t happened in awhile. He and Sollux will sometimes get into it and Karkat will need to be creative but recently Sollux has been busy with some big project of his, leaving Karkat’s insults to stagnate.

He passes the dice back to Dave with a “here, you tone-deaf cock waffle.”

Not his greatest, but his best insults come when he’s out of his mind with rage, and right now he’s just… having fun. It’s a novel feeling.

-

Dave scoffs at Karkat’s next slew of insults. “Tone-deaf? I thought you liked my singing. Or were you just trying not to slam my poetry?”

Dave rolls the dice and gets a six, taking landing him directly on Go. Huh. Does he have to pass Go to get the $200? He honestly can’t remember.

Dave looks over at Karkat. “Does anything special happen if you land right on Go, or is that some shit we ought to have established before we started?”

A pause.

“I would like the record to show I didn’t call you something like ‘vapid fuckmouth’ or ‘raging dickprince’, so just like—answer the fucking question without being a pretentious arse about it.”

-

Maybe he shouldn’t have gone with tone-deaf. Karkat squints at Dave, Trying to figure out if he’s actually insulted, but it’s hard to tell. 

“Your singing is… passable,” he allows, not wanting to admit defeat and say that he actually really likes Dave’s voice.

“You just fucking called me a pretentious arse so I think it cancels out,” Karkat says, when Dave lands on Go and asks his question. “But no, nothing special happens. You just get your money.”

He fishes $200 out of the box and hands it over before Dave can try to get it himself again. No more of that. His brain and heart and dick can’t take it. 

His next roll has him sailing smoothly over Dave’s properties and onto Water Works. 

“My tiny dog prevails,” he says.

-

Dave watches with a heavy heart as Karkat’s little silver dog flits across his properties without any fuss, once again.

He looks over at Karkat and quirks an eyebrow. “Did something occur between last night and today to make your opinion go from ‘really talented’ to ‘passable’?” Dave asked, a bemused kind of smile coming to his lips as he huffs out a soft laugh.

_It was probably the whole Making Him Wildly Uncomfortable thing, you raging asswipe._

What the hell was he doing right now. Was he really this desperate for praise? (Yes.)

Was he really so determined to get Karkat’s approval? (Also yes.)

“I mean, it’s fine if it ain’t really your bag. I can dig it,” Dave says with a casual little shrug, “You don’t gotta try and butter my biscuit.”

-

Fuck, goddammit. Dave really is upset. He plays it off well, casual and kind in the way that Karkat is coming to expect, but it’s still written in the lines of his shoulders, the way he holds himself.

Karkat is the scummiest fucker on the planet, telling Dave he likes his music and then calling him tone-deaf the next day. He never knows where the line is with shit like this. It’s why his friends are all callous assholes, even the nicer ones.

His shoulders slump and he says, “You _are_ talented. I’m just being a fucking jackass, as usual. Just tell me to fuck off when I say shit like that.”

It doesn’t feel like enough, so he also mumbles out a, “sorry.”

-

Dave blinks owlishly, though Karkat wouldn’t know it since it’s hidden behind his shades.

What the fuck. Dave should be the fucking one apologizing, not Karkat. He was really going to put moves on Karkat and make him uncomfortable, and then turn around and make Karkat feel guilty?

Dave was such an asshole.

“Ain’t no sorry about it, man.” Dave says, and his heart thuds thickly against his chest when his voice comes out far more stern than he intended. “You—shit, dude, you’re not a—I’m the jackass, not you.”

Dave reaches out to grab another sip of his drink to hopefully stop the onslaught of words threatening to pour out faster and sloppier than he’d spilled that goddamn soda earlier.

When his lips pull away from the glass, he mutters quietly under his breath: “If anyone ought to be sorry around here it’s me.”

-

Karkat’s confusion is palpable.

“What the fuck do _you_ have to be sorry for?” Karkat asks, bewildered. “You haven’t done anything.”

Nothing besides being hot as fuck and hilarious to boot, making Karkat blush and fluster like he’s 13 again with his first real crush. 

Dave has been unbelievably kind and accepting about all of this. He didn’t even scream at Karkat the way he deserved after the accident, though Karkat’s fairly sure it’s because his sense of self-worth is below bedrock due to whatever nebulous circumstances caused those scars of his.

-

Dave continues to blink rapidly in dumb shock, but now his expression can be read a little clearer as his eyebrows shoot up on his forehead.

Karkat thinks he didn’t do anything worth being sorry about?

What?

Now he’s bewildered and confused.

“I haven’t done anything?” Dave repeats, incredulous. “Dude, I refuse to believe you’re that fucking ham-brained.”

-

Karkat bristles. He’s feeling raw and exposed, suddenly, like he’s transparent but Dave remains opaque, an enigma. 

“Clearly whatever the fuck you think you did wasn’t that bad if _that’s_ your apology,” he says, crossing his arms and sinking further into the couch. He grits his teeth and breathes in through his nose, trying to calm down.

“Just tell me what you think you have to apologize for so I can dispel the moronic notion from your maggot-infested brain and we can move on,” he says.

-

Karkat crosses his arms and sinks into the couch looking so goddamn petulant and stubborn that Dave feels like screaming. He really is that ham-brained, holy shit—

It was official, Karkat was as dense as he was hot. Why were the pretty ones always so fucking stupid.

“It would be easier to list what I haven’t done,” Dave mutters, “But how about the absolute fucking monkey wrench I threw at your life like I was an Olympic gold medalist hurling a javelin so hard it took you out at the kneecaps? Not only severely inconveniencing you by making you have to lose shifts at work and hours of sleep because you have to stay here and look after some douchebag who couldn’t fucking look both ways, but also because that same douchebag is such a pathetic waste of spunk he can’t even put on a fucking shirt, or keep the rotting, festering dumpster fire he calls a brain out of the fucking gutter for two seconds so that he doesn’t make the guy who is only morally obligated to stick around massively uncomfortable being in his presence? But sure, yeah, I don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

-

Karkat’s mouth falls open just a little bit more with every idiotic bullshit sentence that Dave spews all over him. Annoyance bubbles up under his skin and he turns his body to better face Dave’s idiocy head on.

“ _First_ of fucking all,” he starts, incensed. “ _I’m_ the one who hit you with my goddamn car. _I_ broke your arm and gave you a concussion and all those fucking cuts and bruises. You didn’t do jack shit.”

He takes a breath. “ _Secondly_ , I’m not losing any sleep I wouldn’t lose already. Or did you not hear me when I said I have fucking *insomnia*? Pull the dicks out of your ears and listen for once you self-centered toolbag. And I’ll be making up my shifts next week. It’s not a goddamn problem.”

“But wait! I’m not done!” he declares, waving his arms around for emphasis. “ _Third_ , if you needed help with putting a fucking shirt on you should have _told_ me that. I’m here to help you, you stupid fucking crotchstain. You have a cast the size of a fucking boulder immobilizing one fourth of your limbs! Shit is going to be difficult!”

“And _last of all_ ,” he adds. “You haven’t made me uncomfortable! Why the fuck would you think I’ve been uncomfortable? You’ve been a goddamn _delight_ up until this very moment!” He begins ticking things off his fingers, “You’re playing possibly the worst game ever invented with me, you put on a marathon of my favorite childhood movie series _despite_ not being able to watch it yourself, you let me borrow your fucking sleep pants because I was an idiot and forgot my own. You could have made me sleep on the floor and told me to find my food elsewhere and I would have deserved it because, let us not forget, I _hit you_ with my _motherfucking car_.”

He’s panting by the end of it, eyes narrowed, but it only takes a single look at Dave’s face when he’s done to wonder if he should regret going the fuck off.

-

Dave can’t get a word in edge-wise while Karkat goes off on an absolute tangent, but by the time Karkat is done Dave is bursting at the seams ready to retaliate.

“You only hit me with your fucking car because I was dicking around on the street in the first place. Yeah, I got banged up, but that’s what fucking happens. This isn’t anything new. I haven’t had a cast before but I have for sure broken some bones so it’s—it’s fine, alright? It’s nothing I can’t fucking handle, so quit beating yourself up so much, you didn’t mean to do it, it was an accident.”

Karkat opens his mouth and Dave holds up a finger. “Hold your goddamn horses and shut your lips for two fucking seconds for once, I’m not done. You did tell me you’ve got insomnia but I’m sure as shit you would be dealing with it better if you weren’t sleeping in a bed that ain’t yours. And I don’t give a flying fuck if you’re making up the time you took off next week, you’re still losing money and if John were home he could have babysat my stupid ass. Speaking of babysitting, I didn’t want you to have to fucking dress me on top of every fucking thing else you’ve already done.”

Dave is really missing having both arms right now because his one working hand is honestly getting sore from all the exasperated hand gestures it has to make in order to pick up the slack.

“Also how in the blazing hot fuck have I not made you uncomfortable?? I’ve been nothing but a desperate dickbag from the moment you scraped my ass off the pavement. Of course I’m gonna try and keep you entertained with fuckin’ board games and movie marathons, what the fuck else are you gonna do for a week? Sit around with your thumb up your ass while I pop Tylenol every few hours and nap? No way, that’s fucking lame. You were super understanding and cool and nice so obviously I wanted to show a little goddamn appreciation and pay it fucking forward. You’ve done more for me in less than 72 hours than anyone has ever done.”

Dave is panting just as hard as Karkat by the time his heat is starting to cool off and his rambling stops. At the wide look in Karkat’s eyes, the hot air is sucked out of him and Dave deflates, and says nothing more as he looks away.

-

Karkat’s eyes are wide as dinner plates by the time Dave stops talking. Where does he start with all of that? The fact that Dave, apparently, has had multiple broken bones but never a cast? That Karkat got the most restful sleep he’s had in months when Dave was laying his head on his lap? That Karkat is under no circumstances _cool_ and _understanding_ and _nice_?

So many things to pick from.

“People shouldn’t be so shitty to you,” is what ends up crawling out of his mouth. “If this is the most anyone’s ever done for you.”

He feels his rage fall back into its usual simmer and runs his hand through his hair. How did he end up in a shouting match, again? He’d thought things had been going well.

“You haven’t made me uncomfortable,” he insists after a moment. “You don’t have to entertain me while I’m here; you’re supposed to be healing. And I promise that I sleep just as shitty everywhere else as I do my own bed.”

Missing work is going to hurt, but he’ll be able to pay his bills if he can borrow some money from his dad until next paycheck. And if he can’t then he’ll make some calls, see if he can pay something late without an added fee, and stick _entirely_ to the ramen stash he has in his kitchen for a couple weeks.

He doesn’t think Dave would feel better knowing this, though, so he keeps that part to himself.

-

If Dave wasn’t already sitting, Karkat’s words would have knocked him on his ass.

Karkat almost made Dave want to believe he was worth this amount of kindness.

Karkat continues to insist Dave hasn’t made him uncomfortable, and that sends Dave reeling even more than the first thought.

Dave looks slowly back over at Karkat.

“I would warn you that you are way too fucking nice for your own good, and that you should watch yourself because there are assholes who would take advantage of that,” Dave mumbles.

He’s a coward, and can’t hold his gaze. Dave looks away again.

“But I’m one of those assholes, so...yeah. That ship done sailed.”

-

Dave keeps saying that he’s _nice_ , and Karkat is starting to feel like he’s tricking him, somehow. Dave has a skewed perception of kindness, clearly, and it makes Karkat worry about the shit that he’s used to. How shitty do people have to be to someone to make them think that _Karkat_ is nice?

“What are you talking about?” he asks, grumpy scowl back in place. “How are you taking advantage of me? I offered to be here.”

If anything, Karkat is the one taking advantage of Dave. Reading into his joking, staring at the vast amount of skin on display when Dave is distracted, being a fucking creep in general. If Dave had any idea the shit Karkat’s thought about him he’d probably kick Karkat out and risk death instead.

-

Dave hunches up his shoulders as he leans into the couch cushions, shrinking in on himself. His face starts to burn with shame.

“Because I...because...”

 _Because I faked being in pain so you would touch me_.

“Because—“

 _Because if you knew the things I’ve thought about you doing to me, and the things I’d do in return, you’d be disgusted_.

“Because I distracted you and stole $140 bucks from the bank when you haven’t cheated at all the entire game.” Dave says in a rush.

_You fucking coward._

-

Dave makes himself small and he looks _afraid_ as he tries to get something out and Karkat feels his concern growing. He doesn’t know how to reassure Dave, tell him that there’s almost nothing he could do that would make Karkat really, truly angry with him. That he wouldn’t hurt him no matter what.

And then Dave admits to cheating, and Karkat’s mouth falls open.

“You _asshole_ ,” he gasps, betrayed.

And then he starts to laugh, loud and ugly, because he thought Dave was going to tell him something awful and he’s so, so relieved. And he didn’t even notice Dave swiping extra money, what the fuck? 

But oh, this changes the game completely. Dave said he’s bad at math and Karkat is going to take full advantage of that.

-

Dave looks up in awe as Karkat laughs. It’s loud and lovely and sweet, and warms Dave to the core.

It’s like a bright light being flashed upon him, and the shadows of shame vanish. Dave slowly perks up as he listens, enraptured, as Karkat falls backwards against the cushions as he shakes with laughter. His face rosy, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth pulled open in a wide, perfect smile. Uninhibited.

And it’s infectious, his mirth like the most pleasant airborne pathogen. Karkat’s laugh fills Dave’s lungs slowly, breathing warmth back into him. Dave’s own laugh starts off a light scoffing chuckle at first, and then it grows. Soon his shoulders are shaking with laughter and his cheeks fucking hurt from smiling.

“Sh-shit, dude,” Dave gasps a little as he comes down from his mirth, “I didn’t know you could laugh like that.”

-

Dave laughs and it might just be Karkat’s stupid crush or his inner romantic coming to the surface, but it sounds fucking heavenly. His slim shoulders shake with glee and Karkat gets the opportunity to see a fucking gorgeous smile spread across his face. Karkat wants to kiss him all over, make him laugh and gasp from the presses of Karkat’s lips to his sensitive neck.

“It’s rare,” he admits, glancing away. He hates his laugh; the real one that’s surprised out of him on occasion. It’s obnoxious as fuck and people don’t hesitate to tell him so, which is an instant joy killer. Dave doesn’t say anything about it but Karkat feels the need to apologize anyway. “Sorry you had to be subjected to it.”

-

“Don’t be dumb,” Dave murmurs, “You should laugh like that all the time.”

Dave realizes too late that he’s coming off way too sentimental and forward right now. Who the hell says something like that to someone they just met yesterday?

What’s even crazier is how easily this all comes to Dave. Like calling Karkat a nickname, or telling him he has a nice laugh.

Fuck. Even raising his voice at him.

Dave didn’t do this, not with anyone. Not even with John, who’s been his best friend for fucking years.

Dave doesn’t allow himself to back-peddle, and he sure as shit doesn’t take back what he said. Because it was true.

He wanted to hear Karkat laugh like that all the time. And Dave wanted to be the one who made Karkat do it, every single time.

-

Of all the things Dave has said and done so far, this is the most surprising. Karkat watches him with shocked eyes for a moment, but Dave doesn’t seem to be mocking him.

“O-oh,” he says, voice cracking unattractively. He winces and clears his throat. “Thanks.”

He’s just a walking well of embarrassment, isn’t he? Can he not act like a normal fucking person in front of the guy he likes just _once_ in his life.

“Do you, uh,” he starts, “wanna put on a shirt?”

There is no hope for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Karkat stares Dave down for a while, his eyes wide. As if Dave telling Karkat he should laugh more often is a shocking thing.

When Karkat manages to speak, his voice warbles cutely, and Dave has to hold back a smile as he says, “No problem, man.”

Then Karkat asks him if Dave wants to put a shirt on, and Dave almost wants to be a shit and retort with something like how it’d be a lot easier if Karkat just joined him, #FreeTheNipple and all that shit. But Dave knocks the thought away. He and Karkat were finally managing to hold down a conversation without Dave making a complete ass out of himself. Making Karkat shirtless was not going to help matters in the fucking slightest. Dave would have no fucking good excuses for why he was wiping drool off his chin.

“I guess I can give it another shot,” he says.

-

Dave agrees and Karkat is glad, because Dave not wearing a shirt has been really fucking distracting. He’s blaming not noticing Dave swiping extra cash entirely on his lack of shirt.

It seems like a great idea until Karkat is standing in Dave’s room, holding a short-sleeved shirt awkwardly in one hand and staring at it, wondering how the fuck this is gonna work when Dave can’t move his arm. 

“Okay, let’s try…” he bunches up the shirt and awkwardly wrestles it over the arm with the cast first, pushing it up to Dave’s armpit and stretching it over to his good arm. 

“Put your arm through,” he says. They’re standing very close and Karkat can feel his face warm again. 

When Dave’s other arm is through the sleeve Karkat grabs the hem of the shirt and pulls it up and over until blonde hair peeks messily through the hole of the collar, and he tugs it down until Dave’s head pops through.

“Fucking victory!” he declares, stepping back. His smile falters. “Oh, it’s backwards.”

-

Dave lets out a loud snort, which is—very fucking off-brand for him. But Karkat seems to pull it out of him.

“Well, I fucked it up once, and then you, sooo, third times the charm?” Dave says, readjusting his crooked shades. “I’d lift my arms like a dutiful toddler, but, y’know.”

Dave demonstrates his point by lifting his right arm with ease over his head, while his left arm slowly hovers up slightly at the elbow a few inches before it goes no further.

-

Karkat nods, determined, and reaches for the hem of Dave’s shirt. He tries not to think about how he’s undressing Dave, and how much he wants this to happen in another situation entirely. 

Somehow seeing Dave, chest and stomach bare once more, with messy hair and crooked sunglasses that he refuses to remove, is so much worse than if they would have just remained on the couch.

Karkat can feel his dick getting interested, entirely misreading the situation which _isn’t fucking helpful_. He quickly turns the shirt the right way and goes through the process again, then steps back and tries to think about anything other than slowly peeling Dave’s clothes off of him.

-

Dave almost wants to bend his arm the wrong way or find some other means of fucking this whole thing right up so that Karkat will have to disentangle him and take off his shirt a second time because holy fucking wow did that do things to Dave.

Maybe it would have been easier if he just stayed fucking shirtless. It wasn’t like Karkat had much to ogle at, anyway. Dave was all jagged edges with a farmer’s tan, not the goddamn hunk with _cum gutters_ that Stupid Sexy Shirtless Karkat was. 

Oh, fuck. He should not be thinking about his fucking spooge being anywhere near or on Karkat’s body. That is just a recipe for disaster and Dave is already desperately trying to hold back a boner from when Karkat got so fucking close to him Dave could feel his breath, while his skin tingled where Karkat’s fingers brushed over it as he peeled Dave out of his shirt. 

He wants Karkat to rip all his clothes off and shove him backwards onto the bed and make out with him until Dave can’t fucking breathe. 

Karkat manages to get the shirt on right on, and Dave fixes his glasses a second time and smoothes down his hair. 

“Uh,” he clears his throat when he feels it rise an octave too high, “Thanks.”

-

Karkat looks at a point somewhere over Dave’s shoulder, silently reciting his times tables in his head as he says, “no problem.”

He takes a breath and says, “How’s your head feeling? Do you need more tylenol?”

Karkat did just fucking yell at him. He has a loud voice in general and it only gets louder when he’s angry. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dave has a pounding headache right now, and it’s all Karkat’s fault.

-

Dave fucks with his bangs a bit more until they’re back the way he likes them.

“Eh, it’s a bit achey, but not as bad as before,” Dave says with a shrug. “I could probably take some more Tylenol, though, before it gets any worse. It’s probably the meds wearin’ off.”

He’s also starting to feel kind of tired again. Which is fairly normal. His body was burning a lot of fuel, trying to heal itself. Dave knew this lethargy well. It just normally didn’t come with the option to give into it.

“I am feeling tired again, too.” Dave admits, “Think I might go for another cat nap. Maybe you can restart Phoenix from the beginning so you can actually watch it properly. You said that one was your fave, right?”

-

At least he doesn’t have a migraine. Small mercies. His heart leaps when Dave says he wants to take another nap. Will he rest his head in Karkat’s lap again? Let him play with his hair while he slept? He feels like a creep for hoping the answer is yes.

“Uh, yeah, it is,” he says, surprised Dave bothered to remember. “That sounds like a plan. Do you… want another head massage?”

He can’t look at Dave while he asks. Is he being too obvious? Making Dave uncomfortable? He’s too afraid to look and find out.

-

Karkat offers to give Dave another head massage, and Dave’s heart automatically starts jack-hammering.

The answer is yes, duh, obviously, of course—Dave would be a fucking idiot to pass up one of Karkat’s incredible massages again.

And, well...Dave does have a bit of a headache, this time. So it wouldn’t be like before, when he was lying.

“Dude, if I ever say no to one of your massages, take me back to the hospital because my brain officially broke.” Dave says.

He scratches a little at his cheek and looks away. “You...mentioned you could do shoulder massages, too?”

-

Karkat lets out a puff of air, hoping his relief isn’t noticeable. He feels even _more_ like a creep, but he can’t wait to get his hands on Dave, to see him relaxed and sleepy again.

“Yeah, I can do shoulder massages,” he says, then frowns. “It would be better without the shirt though. God dammit.”

It would be _best_ if Dave could lay on his stomach and Karkat could work over his back until Dave was a sleepy, relaxed puddle. But with the cast that’s impossible, and Karkat wouldn’t survive it anyway. He might not survive this.

“Do you have any lotion?” he asks. If he’s going to give a shoulder massage he’s going to do it right. Some sort of oil would be better, but he has to draw a line somewhere.

-

Dave feels his ears prickle as blood rushes to them. He clamps down on his tongue for a moment, but then brings himself to speak.

“Well, I mean, I guess since we’ve figured out how to figure out the shirt situation, getting it off and on shouldn’t be an issue now.” Dave says.

He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity for Karkat to take his shirt off again, that was for sure.

Then Karkat is asking about lotion, and the blood travels quickly from Dave’s ears to across his cheeks.

“Uhhh,” he says, stupidly.

He looks over at his bedside table, and scratches the back of his head awkwardly.

“Lube probably wouldn’t work, huh?” he mumbles, sheepish.

-

God, Karkat is going to have to take Dave’s shirt off again and _not_ pop a boner. He only has so much self control.

He balks when Dave suggests lube, a hyper-fixated part of his mind appreciating the wonderful, embarrassed flush on his face.

“You don’t have lotion?” he asks, aghast. “How the fuck is your skin so soft?”

Then his brain catches up with his mouth and he swallows thickly. Fuck, okay. Just… pretend like he didn’t say anything weird.

“Do you have any oil? Coconut or olive oil?” he asks desperately. He tries not to think of Dave and lube together. That’s not an association he can afford to make.

-

Dave is a little taken aback by the question about his skin, but then Karkat is pressing on, asking about oil and Dave scrunches up his nose.

“Dude, we’re gonna be on my couch, and I would rather it smell like strawberries than olive oil.” Dave mutters, “I don’t have coconut oil, shits expensive. And olive oil just sounds fuckin’ messy. Lube isn’t gonna be as fucking runny.”

Dave goes over to his bedside table, slides open a drawer and plucks out his bottle of lube, walking it over and shoving it in Karkat’s hand.

“And it’s heat-activated, which is like...super good for muscles and shit, right?” Dave says, tapping on the label. “Should be good enough in a pinch, anyway.”

-

Karkat desperately tries not to make a sound like a boiling teapot as Dave insists on using fucking lube as massage oil, grabbing it from his bedside table. And it’s strawberry flavored, because of fucking course it is.

He closes his eyes and takes a second to gather himself. He’s not a great person now, but what kind of monster must he have been in a past life to deserve this?

“Okay,” he grits out. “Fucking fine, we’ll use your goddamn lube because you and your fucking roommate don’t have any lotion like normal human beings.”

He leads the way to the living room, eyeing the distance between the table and the couch. There should be room for Dave to fit there without moving the table and risking disrupting the board.

He turns to Dave and says, “Okay shit-heel, shirt off.”

And then he’s back in Dave’s space, carefully peeling off his shirt again, pretending like he isn’t internally screaming at every new inch of lovely, freckled skin that’s revealed. He wants to map Dave with his lips like a star chart until he can navigate the nights with just Dave’s skin beneath his fingers.

Holy fuck, he’s got it bad.

“Sit down,” he says, voice too rough to be casual. “And if I see you reaching for any of that Monopoly money your hand is coming off.

-

Karkat gratingly acquiesces to using the lube, and they head back out to the living room. Then Karkat is stepping forward and pulling Dave back out of his shirt and Dave has to hold his breath and close his eyes and think unsexy thoughts.

But that was very, very difficult to do when a very handsome boy was pulling off his shirt and was mere moments away from rubbing him down with fucking lube.

Why the hell didn’t he own lotion? He was digging his own grave so fucking deep right now.

Karkat tells him to sit down, and Dave presses his lips together and scratches at his neck.

“Uhh, I don’t know why I need to keep stressing this little nugget of basic human knowledge here, but...” Dave mumbles as he looks up at Karkat, “Karkat, your massages are so fucking good and goddamn relaxing as shit and if I sit down there I am going to pass the fuck out. And I’m already on the verge of collapse because of how fuckin’ hard my body is working to seal this elbow back together and clear the cobwebs outta my head, so me conking out is moreso an inevitability than anything at this point.”

Plus, Dave didn’t wanna deal with getting a sore ass while trying to enjoy a shoulder rub.

And he’s sure he can’t convince Karkat to rub down that part of him quite as easily.

Dave looks around, trying to think how he could recline but Karkat could still watch his movie. A thought occurs to Dave as a mental image comes to mind that instantly turns his knees to jello. But it’s kind of the only option they have if they both want to be comfy.

“Uh, obviously I can’t lie on my stomach right now, so...” Dave says slowly as he gestures to the couch. He makes a few vague gestures with his hand as he tries to articulate his thoughts. “I’m thinking...you recline on the couch, back up against the armrest, and my spaghetti noodle lookin’ self can go between your legs—“ Dave’s heart skips a bit at those last couple of words and the imagery that brings up, but he presses forwards.

“Uh, and then I like, lean my back against you...if I scoot down enough you should be able to get at my shoulders alright. Right?”

-

Karkat’s brain shuts down in self-defense at the image of Dave between his legs. 

It starts back up in panic mode. There is no way out of this without fucking humiliating himself, is there? Fuck, he’s going to get hard and it’s going to press into Dave’s back and he’s going to be rightfully pissed at him, for taking his attempt at pain relief and turning it into something sexual. 

But he can’t see a way out without admitting _why_ this is a bad idea, which is just as bad. And… he doesn’t want to say no. He wants to know what it feels like, having Dave’s lithe, long body between his legs. If it feels like he belongs there the way Karkat imagines.

“Okay,” he grunts. He sits down, leaning against the armrest and spreads his legs, knowing his face is bright fucking red and not being able to do a single thing about it.

-

“Cool,” Dave says, at a loss for words.

He leans down and grabs the remote. The movie had ended a while ago and was back on the title screen. Dave knocks the volume down a few notches, then hits play.

He gets the blanket from earlier off of the floor, and then looks down at Karkat, sitting on the couch with his legs spread, waiting for him to lie down.

Dave swallows thickly.

He climbs onto the couch and scoots himself over to Karkat, feeling his heart pound harder and harder the closer he gets. He does an awkward wiggle motion to shimmy himself down so that when he leans back against Karkat’s (broad, solid, warm) chest, he’s about halfway down. He’s able to tuck his head perfectly under Karkat’s chin.

Dave fusses with the blanket one-handed until Karkat reaches around him and helps to pull it across both their legs. Dave is sure Karkat can feel Dave’s racing heartbeat against his chest as it pounds through Dave’s back.

Dave slips off his shades and sets them down on top of the blanket like before, and closes his eyes and sends out a desperately fervent prayer to the Boner Gods to leave him the fuck in peace so he doesn’t make this moment stupendously awkward by getting hard from a fucking purely platonic massage session.

A platonic massage using the lube Dave uses his jerk himself off and fuck himself on his fingers with.

-

Dave fits against him even better that Karkat could have imagined, like he was made to be there. He’s a warm weight against him, his hair tickling Karkat’s chin, and he wants to wrap his arms around him and hold him there, wants to nuzzle his face into him and smell his hair without being creepy about it.

And Dave said he was likely going to fall asleep like this.

Fuck, was this hell? Did Karkat die without realizing it and go to hell? Already his dick is taking interest in the proceedings and Karkat wills it down, an incredibly difficult feat when his next action involves grabbing the lube and popping open.

The smell of artificial strawberry hits his nose as he pushes some onto his fingers. He rubs it between his hands, feeling it heat up, and says, “Lean forward a bit.”

And then his hands are running along Dave’s shoulders, slipping easily over his impossibly soft skin. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says, smoothing his fingers up the back of his neck, squeezing and releasing as he goes. He tries to focus on remembering what he knows about massage instead of the fact that Dave’s pressed up against him. 

He digs his thumbs into the base of Dave’s skull, moving them in small circular motions, slowly making his way down. He runs his hands along the tops of Daves shoulders, kneading the muscles there, then moves down further. There are scars here, but he doesn’t let himself hover over them.

He moves his hands in long, slow strokes, applying light pressure and, when Dave doesn’t protest, presses a bit harder, finding knots in his shoulder blades and working them out with a gentle determination.

-

Karkat instructs Dave to lean forward and he does so, and then Karkat’s warm hands (made even warmer by the lube) are sliding across his shoulders and up the back of his neck.

Karkat says to tell him if it hurts and Dave is certain that is the least likely thing to occur here, but he gives a little hum to show he at least heard him.

Dave holds his breath as Karkat’s thumbs dig into the back of his head and work downwards in circular motions. The movement causes him to tuck his chin into his neck to give Karkat as much access as he needs, because holy shit it feels incredible. What little headache Dave did have is alleviated within minutes under Karkat’s hands.

Then Karkat’s hands move down to his shoulders, and Dave figures he’s good to lean back again, and does so with a soft sigh.

For a moment, Dave is almost able to disconnect himself from the fact that Karkat is the one doing this to him right now, and just enjoy the sensations. He tries to tell himself he’s in one of those massage chairs in the middle of the mall, therefore he’s in public, so don’t get hard, you tool.

But Karkat’s scent cuts through the fake-strawberry smell, intermingling with it in the most delicious way. With Dave’s shirt off, Karkat’s warmth seeps into his skin. He’s nestled perfectly against him, tucked safely between Karkat’s broad arms and shoulders and chest. Karkat’s fingers start digging a little deeper into his shoulders, kneading out knots of tension Dave didn’t even know he had.

Dave lets out a little moan, involuntarily, and it makes his heart thud an extra beat harder than it already was. Shit, hopefully that didn’t come off as creepy. It just feels really, really fucking nice. Karkat is sucking away what feels like years of tension and aches and pains that Dave had left unchecked all this time.

And while the massage feels absolutely amazing, all that can seem to run through Dave’s mind is the desire for Karkat to lean down and kiss up the side of his neck.

He wants Karkat to kiss his hair, burying his nose in and breathing in deep. Peppering kisses all over with those fucking plump lips of his, leaving trails of heat in his wake. He wants Karkat to clean up all the lube on his skin with his tongue, running his tongue across everywhere his hands have been.

He wants Karkat to snake his big arms around Dave’s waist, pressing one hand down on Dave’s hip to keep him in place while his other had slips beneath the waistband of Dave’s pants and grabs his flushed, aching cock, and jerk him off, whispering _I’m here to help you, right?_ into Dave’s ear.

Dave would writhe against his back as Karkat licked at the shell of his ear and pumped his cock, moaning and gasping as he came, spilling onto his bare stomach and Karkat’s hand.

What if Karkat licked the lube and cum off his fingers? Fuuuuuck, that would be so fucking hot. Oh god, or what if after Dave came Karkat brought his hand up to Dave’s mouth and told Dave to clean up the mess he made? And then Karkat would rock his hips up against him, his own hard cock pressed against Dave’s back as he pushed his fingers into Dave’s mouth. Dave would lick and suck his fingers fucking spotless, until he’d licked up all of his cum, the taste of his own jizz and strawberry on his tongue while he pants for breath...

...Okay. Fuck. That one really got fucking away from him. There were no fucking emergency brakes on that train of thought, it just went hurtling past reason and kept on fucking chugging at top speed.

Dave is fucking grateful for the blanket, because he is now fully, achingly hard beneath it. He was so lost in that sexy fucking fantasy he couldn’t even will it down, and Dave realizes suddenly he’s probably been sighing and making little moans this entire time as Karkat’s hands knead into his shoulders and Dave’s mind wandered.

Fuck. Karkat must be so weirded out right now. Maybe he can make up some excuse, like this is some kind of Pavlovian response?

Dave starts rehearsing his apology.

_Sorry, dude, I totally forgot that the smell of artificial strawberry is just ingrained in my brain as being associated with masturbation, so whenever I smell it my dick gets hard. Should have thought of that, my bad._

Yeah. It had absolutely nothing to do with the way Karkat smelled, or how his large hands swallowed Dave’s shoulders whole. Or how his warm breath kept fanning across Dave’s skin. Or how Dave couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him.

Yeah, it was definitely just a conditioned response to the smell of lube. Yep. Absolutely.

-

Dave’s littles noises--the _aah_ s, and _mmm_ s and soft, breathy sighs--are, unfortunately for Karkat, really fucking hot. His concentration continues to be broken over and over, his fingers turning clumsy as he tries to find his balance again. 

If Karkat’s hands weren’t covered in lube he’d reach into Dave’s hair, scratch his fingernails lightly over his scalp. Instead he works back up Dave’s neck, focusing on the sides, and traces around his ears. Behind and over the top and under, even grabbing his earlobe and tugging it lightly.

He’d give fucking anything to replace his hands with his mouth. To kiss Dave’s neck and back and shoulders, leaving bruising bites and gentle laps of tongue in his wake. He wants to sneak his hands up Dave’s chest, feeling him up and pinching his nipples between his fingers, eager to discover what sounds _that_ elicits. 

He wants to let his hand slip lower and lower, teasingly, until he’s running his fingers lightly over the bulge in Dave’s pants, listening to him whine until Karkat palms him through the flannel. He wants to kiss over every scar on Dave’s body, wants to learn all the parts of him that make his legs go weak and eyes glaze over.

Instead he continues running his hands over Dave’s shoulders and neck, on a search and destroy mission for any knots he can find, which Dave seems to be made of entirely. His dick is throbbing and Karkat redoubles his efforts, hoping that if he’s good enough he can distract Dave from his obvious erection and the way it presses against Dave’s lower back. He keeps his hips firmly planted on the couch cushions, not bucking up even though he desperately needs it.

It’s not his fault; it’s a natural reaction when there’s a gorgeous man laying between his legs, making those noises and being so pliant under Karkat’s fingers. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

-

Dave said he would pass out almost immediately but now he’s not even remotely tired.

He’s just limp under Karkat’s hands and deliriously horny.

And he can’t—do—a—fucking—thing—about—it.

He wants to whimper and buck his hips, reach up and take one of Karkat’s hands and guide him down to his throbbing cock, moaning out _look what you do to me._

But he fucking CAN’T. It would be so wrong. First he took advantage of Karkat’s abundant kindness and faked having a headache so Karkat would touch him. And now he’s getting a fucking erection because Karkat is giving him a back rub.

Karkat’s hands move back up Dave’s neck and behind his ears. Karkat pulls on his earlobes again and Dave can’t stop himself from shivering. Fuck, fuck, he had no idea his ears were so sensitive. He can’t believe he has to discover this new fucking kink of his now, at the most inappropriate time. The shiver he isn’t able to stop but Dave bites down on his lip to stop the moan that nearly comes out with it.

Then Karkat’s hands are back down Dave’s neck and shoulders, massaging deeply into all the kinks and knots until Dave feels like wet putty under him.

Dave’s head lolls to the side, towards the couch and away from Karkat, hoping he can hide the clearly desperate look on his face.

He’s still rock fucking hard and there’s nothing he can do to make it go down, even the fucking godawful embarrassment he feels at being hard right now is fucking doing things to him because he is—as has been previously established—a goddamn freak. Dave presses his head back against Karkat’s shoulder as Karkat goes back to his fucking ears again.

“Ah, f-fuck—“ Dave sucks in a quick gasp of air and holds it and his heart jolts. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck, he did NOT mean to say that, it just tumbled out of him. He’s so goddamn horny right now he is losing control of all his fucking faculties. Dave holds his breath and hopes and prays Karkat doesn’t comment, and also doesn’t stop.

-

Dave is relaxing beneath him, head lolling like it’s too much effort to keep it up himself; first it rests on the couch, then falls back onto Karkat’s shoulder. Karkat is having a lot of fucking trouble keeping his mind out of the gutter when it’s so easy to imagine Dave’s blissed out reactions as a result of Karkat pounding into him.

He can’t see much of Dave’s face, but the tops of his ears are red and Karkat traces the shell, gently rolling it between his fingers so he doesn’t lean forward and suck it between his teeth.

Dave swears, the first word he’s said since they started, and Karkat pauses. He’s not digging into a sore muscle, so it couldn’t have hurt, and Dave almost sounded--

“Good or bad?” he asks, voice rough, keeping his fingers still until Dave gives him the okay or tells him to back off.

-

Karkat stops moving and Dave has to hold back a fucking whine, pressing his lips together tight and swallowing roughly to hold back the desperate, pathetic sound.

He tries to communicate without words, because he doesn’t trust his voice yet, and pushes his head a little against Karkat’s hand, leaning into the touch.

“Good...” Dave whispers, and his voice is too soft, too blissed out for what’s supposed to just be a simple massage.

Dave turns his head again, tucking it more securely under Karkat’s chin, and his nose brushes against the front Karkat’s neck, just above the dip in his clavicle.

“Just...sens—t-ticklish..” Dave murmurs.

-

Ticklish, huh? Karkat can’t help the swell of disappointment. He’d thought… well. Nevermind.

“Okay,” Karkat says quietly. He leaves Dave’s ears alone for now and Dave turns his head. Karkat can feel his breath on his skin, where his baggy sweater has pulled down, and he swallows thickly. It’s hard to do much with Dave pressed up against him like this, but he’s not about to tell him to move.

He runs his hand down the side of Dave’s neck, lightly pinching the skin between his thumb and fingers as he goes, until he reaches the junction of Dave’s neck and shoulder. He spends time working across Dave’s shoulder again; it’s the one with the cast, and it’s probably straining from the extra weight.

When he’s done he rubs his palm over the ball of Dave’s shoulder; not part of the massage, but hopefully it still feels good. He lets his hand move across Dave’s shoulder and up his neck to the base of his ear in a long, slow stroke, then moves back down.

“More?” he asks. His voice shakes very slightly.

He’s still hard and aching, but as long as Dave doesn’t notice (or care?) then he’s willing to ignore it for as long as it takes.

-

Dave is still hard, but it’s like his dick knows it isn’t actually going to get any and is just stubbornly remaining hard because this feels good and it’s...well, a dick.

Dave turns his head a little more towards Karkat, trying to expose the right side of his neck as much as he can. He hadn’t realized how much his right side was aching from lugging around the extra weight of the cast, so it feels extra good when Karkat works the muscles on that side.

Karkat goes from kneading and rubbing to stroking Dave’s shoulder, going from the ball of his shoulder all the way up to his ear. Dave wishes he hadn’t fucking fibbed and said they were ticklish, because now Karkat was leaving them alone.

Dave is practically nuzzling his nose into Karkat’s neck at this point, but he’s so blissed out and dreamy he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Mhmm...” Dave says, nodding his head a little.

-

Dave is so cute like this, sweetly rubbing his head against Karkat’s shoulder, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of Karkat’s neck. Karkat can’t help himself; he tilts his head and nuzzles his cheek against Dave’s hair. Dave says he wants more, so Karkat gives it to him, working his warm fingers into his shoulder until they’re aching.

Dave will likely be sore from this later, but Karkat hopes it’ll be a good kind of sore. 

He turns his attention back to Dave’s neck, fingers following the lines he desperately wants to kiss, where he’d leave little marks, physical proof that Dave is loved.

Loved. Jesus christ, he needs to calm down. He’s not in love, he’s just horny and Dave is unfortunate enough to be hot and adorable in his vicinity.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, letting his fingers drift back up to Dave’s ear. He didn’t even think ears could be attractive until he met Dave. He uses a bit more pressure, hoping it will stop it from tickling too much. He doesn’t linger long, though, moving his hand up into Dave’s hair. He’s going to need a shower to wash the fucking lube off anyway; why not?

-

Dave feels Karkat’s cheek press against his head, and Dave feels warm and tingly all over. God, from the outside looking in, if anyone were to walk in on them in this position they would look like two lovers cuddling together on the couch.

But it feels good. It’s taking Dave’s mind off the ache in his arm, the weight pulling on his shoulder, the ache in his forehead. It didn’t have to mean anything more, or be anything more than that.

Right?

Karkat’s fingers work deeply into his muscles to the point it aches, but it’s a good ache. Karkat says again that Dave can tell him if he wants to stop, but Dave just makes a small “mm-mm” noise and shakes his head a little.

God. Karkat smells so fucking good. It’s taking everything Dave has not to crane his head up and kiss Karkat’s neck. See if he tastes as good as he smells.

Karkat’s fingers go back up to Dave’s ear, and Dave lets out a sigh. It’s getting harder and harder to control his sounds as his brain goes into a dreamy fog, so when Karkat rubs at his ear with more pressure than before Dave lets out a throaty groan. Before he turns into too much of a writhing mess from that, however, Karkat’s fingers are slipping through his hair.

Dave hums softly, and by this point his head is turned so his face is completely buried in Karkat’s neck. He breathes in and out of his nose slowly, not letting his lips part or move in any way in case they betray him and do something stupid like let another moan slip out, or kiss Karkat’s throat.

-

Dave lets out a sound that makes Karkat’s dick twitch in his pants and he grits his teeth against the sensation. No more messing around with Dave’s ears; he’s just torturing himself.

Dave’s face is buried in his neck now, breath tickling his skin, and it’s so easy to imagine Dave pressing a soft kiss there, or poking his tongue out to give a tingling lick. Karkat’s neck is a huge goddamn erogenous zone and what wouldn’t he give for Dave to take full advantage of that?

But Dave isn’t interested in him, and even if he was it’s a bad idea. Karkat’s had enough of driving people away.

His fingernail scritch along Dave’s scalp for awhile until he lazily makes his way over to Dave’s temple, intent on easing his headache as well as he can. That’s what this is all for, after all. It’s the most intimate massage Karkat’s ever given. And the weirdest position, with Dave plastered against Karkat’s chest, so slim and warm, fitting against him like a puzzle piece.

-

Karkat’s hand moves to Dave’s temple, rubbing it gently in circles.

What little headache Dave did have earlier was long gone, but obviously he isn’t about to tell Karkat to stop.

Did Karkat seriously do this with all his friends? How did they not all immediately fall in love with him?

Not that Dave was in love. That would be crazy, and horrendously inappropriate and just a very, very enticing but still a very, very bad idea.

After all, he wasn’t Karkat’s soulmate.

Dave opens his eyes.

“Your soulmate...is gonna be one lucky son of a bitch,” Dave mumbles into Karkat’s neck.

Christ. Did his lips just brush Karkat’s skin? When did he get this close to him?

He doesn’t move away. But he doesn’t trust himself to say anything else either.

-

The buzzing, tingling sensation of Dave’s lips against Karkat’s skin contrasts awfully with the feeling of guilt settling into his stomach like a heavy weight.

His _soulmate._

Karkat’s been obsessed with soulmates since he was a child. He consumes media about it daily, imagines meeting his soulmate constantly. And yet, with Dave in his arms, he completely fucking forgot that there was someone out there fated for him, who he was fated for in return.

He’s dated before. Serious relationships, not just hookups, though he’s had those as well. He’s had people dump him because they found their soulmate, or dump him because he was too loud, too angry, too embarrassing, too _something_. He’s convinced the only way anyone can stand him is if they were literally made for each other.

But Dave made him forget that.

Dave, who isn’t his soulmate. (Karkat checked, in the bathroom, looking at the inside of his forearm, near his elbow. But there’s nothing there, no words, no faint outline. It can take a few days for the words to show, but so far there’s. Nothing.)

“Think my massages can make up for the rest of me?” he jokes, but his voice is too rough to sound light, and he forgot he’s trying to lay off the self-hating humor around Dave. So he adds, “I’m kidding.” And he doesn’t continue, _I know it won’t_.

-

“Oh, shut up, you aren’t kidding,” Dave mutters, turning his head so his cheek rests on Karkat’s shoulder. “I don’t know why you got such a hate-on for yourself, dude, but it ain’t fuckin’ justified for shit.”

Ohh, boy, he does not have a filter right now. He’s relaxed and horny and blissed out and this incredible, gorgeous man who’s gracing Dave with his presence doesn’t seem to have a fucking clue how amazing he is. And Dave knows he isn’t much better for the self-deprecating humour but at least his comes from a place of fucking reason.

“Seriously. You’re fucking incredible.”

God, what was he doing—

“I hope you and your soulmate find one another one day. You deserve that.”

His heart hurts. Is it because it’s been pounding so hard, or is it from the notion that someday Karkat would find his soulmate?

And that it wouldn’t be Dave.

“You’re funny, hot as hell, you don’t have a giant stick up your ass about likin’ nerdy shit, give great massages, you’re caring, got a great fucking laugh—“ Dave shakes his head a little, “If your soulmate doesn’t make you laugh every fucking day I will personally go and beat them the fuck up. And then profusely apologize and throw myself down at your feet for beating your soulmate’s ass, but—fuck, they’d be an idiot not to.”

Holy shit, he can’t believe he’s jealous of Karkat’s imaginary soulmate.

-

Dave doesn’t let his stupid comment go, instead calling him out on it and fucking burying him in compliments. Every one feels like a punch to the solar plexus, and makes heat burn low in his belly. He wants to hear Dave’s praise whispered into his ear while he’s being pressed to a bed, or up against a wall, or bent over a table, or any number of things that isn’t a platonic massage/cuddle session.

He leans his head back, letting it fall against the armrest, and sighs.

“Every time you talk I become more convinced I’ve given you irreparable brain damage,” he says, dragging his fingers through Dave’s hair. He’s not even keeping up the pretense of massage anymore, just enjoying the feeling of the soft strands sifting through his fingers.

He wants to ask _you think I’m hot?_ which appears to be the one thing his brain is sticking on.

“Your soulmate’s lucky, too,” he sighs. Luckier than Karkat. 

-

Dave scoffs. “No brain damage. Just a cursed bloodline.” he mutters.

He tucks his chin down a little. _“Striders don’t believe in soulmates.”_

The words feel bitter on his tongue. Bro’s poison, that he’s still leeching out of his wounds, has also been slathered across the concept of soulmates for Dave his entire life.

He doesn’t want to believe what Bro said was true, but...it has to be. Why would anyone ever love Dave? Why would Dave ever get to have someone fated for him. A real Strider didn’t need anyone except themselves, and if they did rely on others than they were weak.

Dave closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to be like his Bro. What his Bro did to him was—was wrong—you don’t do that to your little brother—

But when it was all he’d ever known, it was hard to convince himself otherwise. That he could be worthy of something like this, like having someone so kind and perfect pressed against him, stroking his fingers through Dave’s hair.

Karkat’s not even massaging him anymore. But he also hasn’t pushed Dave away. And he’s still touching him. This isn’t even ‘platonic therapeutic massage’ anymore, this is just...’platonic cuddling’. Is it platonic?

Dave just admitted he thought Karkat was hot and Karkat didn’t call him a weirdo. Did that mean Karkat liked it?

Did that mean Karkat liked Dave?

Karkat’s fingers keep stroking through Dave’s hair, pulling the tension out of his body, making tingles trickle down his scalp.

“I don’t think I’ve got a soulmate,” Dave says quietly, “And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be lucky enough to—“

_—to have it be you._

Dave sighs shakily.

He was in way over his head.

-

Karkat’s hand falters for a moment, then resumes stroking Dave’s hair. Dave doesn’t think he has a soulmate? Why? It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare. He said something about a cursed bloodline. Maybe his family has been unlucky before?

“Lucky enough to what?” he prods gently. 

The idea of someone like Dave not having a soulmate is laughable. He’s so easy to get along with, has such a magnetic air around him. Somewhere out there is a person just as perfect as Dave, waiting to find him, and when they do the two of them will fall head over heels in love, and Karkat, if he hasn’t been forgotten entirely, will be nothing but an afterthought.

-

Karkat keeps stroking through Dave’s hair, and once again Dave is left wondering what the hell Karkat’s limit is. How far can his kindness and understanding stretch before he finally realizes Dave isn’t worth his fucking time.

Karkat prods him, and the way he says it is so soft and patient...Dave knows he could tell Karkat to drop it and he would, no more questions asked. And as much as he wants to be a coward, he doesn’t want to either.

Dave hides his burning face in Karkat’s neck.

“...lucky enough to be _you_.”

-

Karkat freezes. Dave’s voice is muffled slightly against his neck, lips dragging across his skin as he talks and it goes right to his dick, holy fuck that feels so fucking _good_ , he can’t imagine what it would feel like if Dave was actually kissing him there. He has to bite back an honest to god _moan_ at the sensation. 

But more than that, Dave’s voice saying _enough to be you_ has his heart pounding out of his chest. There’s no way he heard that right, did he? Dave wouldn’t want him as a soulmate; Dave is sweet and kind and funny and classically good-looking and he deserves so much better than Karkat. Dave may think all those things he said before are true but he doesn’t _know_ Karkat, doesn’t know how he ruins everything he touches. 

So. Karkat didn’t hear him correctly. He’s projecting, hearing what he wants Dave to say and not his actual words, because he’s pathetic and desperate and likes Dave _so much_. Dave is the kind of person that’s easy to fall in love with.

“Wh-at?” he asks, voice breaking humiliatingly. He coughs slightly. “What did you say?”

-

Dave opens his eyes, blinking rapidly a few times. His lashes flutter against Karkat’s neck, he’s still so fucking close.

Did Karkat not hear him? Dave supposes he did just mumble it under his breath, muffled by Karkat’s neck and shoulder.

So Dave was in the fucking clear. Because if that wasn’t a motherfucking confession just now, he doesn’t know what is. And it was best for both of them if Karkat just didn’t hear what he said, meaning Dave could say he said something else and they could move the fuck on from this moment and get through the rest of the week without having sloppy makeouts they would both regret.

Well. Not Dave. He would absolutely not regret it. But he would feel bad for moving in on someone who clearly had someone destined to be with him out there who wasn’t Dave.

And what if Karkat hated him for it, and never forgave him? Dave couldn’t live with that.

“Enough to be...uhhhhh, Obama.” Dave mutters.

He gives a little shrug and a melodramatic sigh. “But we all know his soulmate is Michelle.”

-

Is Dave leaving little butterfly kisses on Karkat’s neck on purpose? It tickles wonderfully. 

But of course Dave didn’t say he wanted Karkat. What the fuck was he thinking? 

He doesn’t reply to the Obama comment, which is… kind of fucking weird but okay. Whatever. Instead he continues petting Dave’s hair. He should probably stop, but he wants to enjoy this while he can, before all this is over and they go their separate ways. 

“You have a soulmate,” Karkat says definitively, because he’s pretty sure Dave was being serious about that. “You’ll find them. You’re a good person, Dave. Annoying as shit and a little cheat, but you’re funny and talented and--” _so fucking painfully beautiful_ “--kind. There’s someone meant for you.” He pauses. “Sorry it’s not Obama.”

He sighs. Dave is being vulnerable with him; he at least owes him the same.

“I’m kind of a train wreck in relationships,” he admits. “Fuck everything up. Sometimes I don’t think I have a soulmate either. Or if I do they must be fucking terrible to be destined to be with me.”

He winces. He should have left that last bit out. There’s his _too much_ gene again; he never knows when to fucking quit.

-

Karkat insists that Dave does have a soulmate, and Dave wants to believe him, he does.

But he doesn’t see any words on Karkat’s arm, so it clearly must not be him. And if Karkat isn’t his soulmate, then Dave would rather just not have one at all. It wouldn’t be the same.

Then Karkat suddenly brings up how he’s fucked up his relationships in the past, and that makes Dave perk up. He lifts his head slightly off Karkat’s shoulder to look at him, and holy wow their faces are real goddamn close like this, huh?

Karkat’s being so open and vulnerable with him right now, admitting this to him. Karkat’s face pulls into a wince and he stops talking, and Dave’s own expression of quiet awe pulls into a frown.

“Dude. If those people who dated you in the past couldn’t see what a fuckin’ catch you are, then that’s on them. Clearly they’re too fuckin’ stupid to be worth being your soulmate, anyway. You do have a soulmate out there, and they’re gonna be able to handle your anti-morning attitude, they’re gonna stay up as late as you do just to keep you company even if they’re falling over themselves, they’re gonna read your books cover to cover, they’re gonna be able to match you toe-to-toe with your descriptive insults, and they’re gonna...gonna...”

Dave realizes that Karkat’s been staring at him, and that Dave has been rambling. And their faces are still really fucking close together. Karkat can probably smell the fucking apple juice on his breath.

“...They’re gonna be just as great as you are.” Dave finishes, suddenly meek.

-

Dave doesn’t have his shades on, and his beautiful vibrant eyes stare into Karkat’s from such a short distance he can see the varying flecks of darker reds in them. They’re breathtaking, and Dave is gorgeous, even with his lips pulled into an unhappy frown. His breath fans across Karkat’s face and they’re so _close_ , it would be so easy to lean in and kiss him, feel those shapely lips against his own. 

What would they feel like? Would they be as soft as the rest of Dave? Chapped and rough? Somewhere in between? No matter what Karkat is positive they’d be addicting.

But Dave is talking, and Karkat stares at him with wide eyes as he describes the kind of relationship Karkat yearns for. He wants to say _you could do those things_ , wants to tell him _you could be that person_. But he bites the words back, swallowing them down, because they have no place here, when Dave is just trying to give him a pep-talk.

Dave’s voice falters at the end and he looks… shy? Embarrassed? Karkat runs a hand along his shoulder soothingly.

“...Thank you,” he says seriously. “I hope so.”

Fuck, he could stare into Dave’s eyes for hours.

-

Fuck, he could stare into Karkat’s eyes for hours.

They’re not just brown, they’re like a cherrywood maroon, with flecks of reddish brown intermingled with deep browns and blacks. They’re deep and hypnotic and alluring.

Dave is snapped out of his trance as Karkat runs a hand over Dave’s shoulder and thanks him, and all Dave can do at first is awkwardly nod in response.

“You’re welcome,” Dave mumbles, “uh, and thanks, for the massage. I feel like a limp noodle now. I should probably get a shower before I rock a cat nap, though, otherwise this lube is gonna get all sticky and gross.”

Dave shuffles a little. He really doesn’t want to get up. Karkat’s really warm, and comfy, for one thing. And for another, Dave is still rocking a decent half-chub, so getting up is probably not in his best interests right now.

“I could use some help tying some grocery bags onto my fuckin’ arm, but otherwise I should be able to manage in there,” Dave says, “Unless you wanna get in there and help me scrub my back.”

What the fuck, he was supposed to be done with the goddamn flirting. And thinking about Karkat washing him down in the shower was not going to defuse the chub situation.

-

Dave wants to get up. This poses a problem, because while his erection has flagged a bit it’s still at half mast at _least_ , and Karkat doesn’t know how the fuck Dave hasn’t noticed it already, but he definitely will if Karkat gets up.

And besides that, he doesn’t want this to end. He wants Dave to stay pressed against him forever, wants him to fall asleep like this and let Karkat bask in his soft warmth. But he can’t make Dave stay, so he nods hesitantly. His sweater is probably covered with lube from Dave’s back resting on it. Whatever, it needed to be washed anyway.

“Yeah, I can help with that,” he says. “The grocery bags. Not the scrubbing. Unless you really can’t reach?”

God fucking dammit. At least the humiliation he feels is helping his dick go soft again.

-

“Cool,” Dave says, “And nah, I think I should be good. Unless you hear the telltale signs of me slipping and eating shit in the shower, I think I should be good on my own once I get this arm waterproofed.”

Dave really doesn’t want to get up. He looks over his shoulder, and the movie is still playing.

“But, uh, finish watching the movie,” Dave says quickly, “it’s only about halfway through. I’m gonna see if I can get a little doze in before my shower, I’m feeling lazy as fuck after that massage so I don’t feel like getting up yet anyway.”

Before Karkat can say any more on the matter, Dave scoots back down and rests his head on Karkat’s shoulder and closes his eyes. Hopefully by the time the credits roll, his dick will have calmed the fuck down.

-

Oh fuck, the movie. Karkat completely forgot.

He doesn’t turn to watch it, not yet. Dave slips further down and gets comfortable against Karkat’s chest, head against his shoulder, and Karkat wonders if he can feel his heartbeat against his back. Dave is just… gonna sleep on him, then? Karkat doesn’t have a single goddamn problem with that.

He hesitantly raises his arm and slips it around Dave’s waist, cheeks alight. Dave doesn’t say anything about it, though, so it must be fine. He tries to calm down. Friends cuddle all the time, don’t they? Are he and Dave friends now? 

He worries his lip as his eyes find the tv screen. This really is his favorite movie in the series, but he can’t pay attention to it. His eyes glaze over as he enjoys the quiet, calm boy against him, hoping he’s getting some decent sleep.

Karkat would try to nap, too, but he isn’t tired in the least. Fucking insomnia. He tries to remain still, a good pillow, as the movie plays. And by the time the credits roll he’s still not prepared to give this up. 

But he doesn’t want Dave to be upset with him, so he runs a hand along his uninjured arm and says softly, “Hey, the movie’s over. Do you wanna get up?”

-

Dave keeps his eyes closed.

“Nope,” he murmurs, “I’m fast asleep.”

-

Karkat’s lips quirk up into a smile.

“Yeah? Good dreams?” he asks. It takes every ounce of control he has not to nuzzle his face into Dave’s hair. 

-

“Great dream,” Dave mumbles, shuffling a little. “I’m in the White House, standing in the Oval Office. And Obama is there, and he just winked at me. There are tears running down my cheeks behind my shades.”

-

Karkat laughs. How can one person be so fucking ridiculous.

“I’m incredibly happy for you,” he says, amused. “What is it with you and Obama? Celebrity crush?”

He keeps running his hand up and down Dave’s arm, enjoying the feel of it beneath his fingers. 

“Should I let you go back to sleep?”

-

“Obama is the greatest, my love for him transcends a mere schoolboy celebrity crush, and I’m honestly appalled at you for even thinking so,” Dave says, “I’m still all caught up in this dream, I’m in complete REM sleep up in this bitch. I just realized I’m naked, but Obama doesn’t seem all that bothered by it. He’s just smiling that kind, warm Obama smile at me. I ask him why the fuck I’m naked and he’s like that’s what happens when you dream, and I start crying all over again and choke out yeah it sure do be like that sometimes. And Obama says it do. And I say thanks Obama.”

-

Karkat’s laughing for real by the end of Dave’s spiel, his chest and shoulders shaking. It can’t be comfortable for Dave, but it’s his fault in the first place.

“My fucking mistake,” he gets out between guffaws. He nudges Dave’s shoulder a bit.

“C’mon, up,” he says regretfully. “You need to shower and I need to change. We’re covered with your fucking lube and everything smells like goddamn strawberries.”

-

“That sounds like the opposite of a problem, but I guess I’ll wake up now.” Dave says, “Though I think Obama was about to bend me over the desk and have his way with me, so this better be worth my while.”

Dave opens his eyes, sits up, and looks over at Karkat.

“Mm, yep, definitely worth it.”

-

Karkat blushes like a fucking idiot. Stupid flirty asshole, making him flustered with just a few words.

“Glad I measure up to dream Obama,” he deadpans. “Now get up.”

His arm is still wrapped around Dave’s waist, his fingers still running from Dave’s elbow to his shoulder, a direct contrast to his words.

-

“You’re so much more than Obama,” Dave says.

That hangs in the air for a moment before Dave realizes that is going from silly flirting into something completely different.

“Okay, shower time.” Dave says quickly, swinging his legs up over Karkat’s thigh and awkwardly stumbling to his feet.

-

Karkat feels himself melt into a little puddle at Dave’s words, but before he can figure out what the fuck to say to that Dave is pushing himself to his feet. It’s fast enough that it takes Karkat by surprise, and his face falls, disappointed. It’s stupid; he was the one trying to get Dave up in the first place.

He waits for Dave to regain his balance, hands hovering awkwardly in the air in case he needs to be caught. And when he doesn’t, Karkat stands up. He reaches his arms over his head and stretches until he feels his vertebrae pop.

“Alright, where do you keep your plastic bags?” he asks, dropping his arms back to his sides. “And we’ll probably need tape, right?”

-

“Where does anyone keep their plastic bags?” Dave says as he walks into the kitchen. “In the cabinet under the sink in a giant pile like I’m a bear stashing them away for the winter, of course.”

Actually, Dave had no idea that was a Thing, before he moved in with John, that is. John was the one who did all the grocery runs after all, and he always kept the bags and tucked them away in the cabinet under the sink, next to the garbage bin. When Dave asked him why in the hell he hoarded garbage bags, and if Dave had to call up My Strange Addiction and see if John would make the cut, John gave him a puzzled look and asked _what do you mean? Everyone does it._

Dave pulls out one grocery bag, frowns, and then grabs a second. That should be enough to cover the whole cast, right? Karkat asks about tape, and Dave shrugs.

“I dunno man, I think the tape would just get wet and come off. I think if you just...tied the handles into knots, that would hold it fine?”

-

Karkat hmms as Dave pulls out the grocery bags.

“I think the water would just leak in,” he says. “I don’t know how much moisture casts can take.”

A thought hits him.

“Do you assholes not have fucking _tape_?” he demands. “Are there any other common household items you two idiots are lacking?”

-

Dave puts a hand on his hip and hefts an eyebrow at Karkat. “Of course we have tape, you blithering dunderfuck, I’m just saying it’s probably about as fucking waterproof as this cast is.”

Dave hoists his arm a little for emphasis, and realizes that’s actually a lot easier to do, now that his muscles have gotten a rub-down. Huh.

-

Karkat’s eyebrows raise. “ _I’m_ the dunderfuck? _You’re_ the one who doesn’t have fucking _lotion_. Nothing will surprise me at this point. Do you use dish soap to wash your clothes? I wouldn’t doubt it.”

He grabs his phone and googles ‘how to take a shower with a cast’.

“‘Sealable plastic bags can be fit over a cast to keep it safe from water. Newspaper bags, bread bags, or small trash bags usually work well. You would pull a bag over the cast and seal it on top using a rubber band or _duct tape_ ,’” he reads off victoriously. He waves his phone in front of Dave’s face. “Get _fucked_ , Strider. Where’s your goddamn tape?”

-

Dave feels his hackles raise a little bit as Karkat talks about him not being able to wash his clothes properly, which is stupid of him. Now he decides to get offended by their banter.

Not—not offended, just...defensive. He knows how to do his fucking laundry, alright? It was something he had to fucking figure out on his own, but he did it. And when your kitchen sink is always filled with fireworks or cherry bombs or whatever the fuck else other than dishes...well sometimes you wash a Tshirt or two in the bathroom sink with a bar of soap. Obviously that was when he was a stupid five year old that didn’t know that there was a perfectly good laundry room on the 6th floor of his apartment. But he knows how to do his laundry now.

Karkat is busy looking at his phone, so he doesn’t see the look on Dave’s face, and by the time Karkat is waggling his phone at Dave looking incredibly smug, Dave had managed to pull his face into a neutral mask of indifference.

“And rubber bands, you smarmy cocksock,” Dave says flippantly, tapping a fingernail on the phone screen. “And we have like...thin, clear tape, not duck tape.”

-

Karkat groans. Of course they don’t have duct tape, why would they have one of the most useful items around? Karkat is going to have to make a fucking kit for this idiot of all the things he somehow managed to avoid. He starts compiling a list in his head: lotion, duct tape. No doubt there’s more.

“Do you have any rubber bands, then?” he asks doubtfully, tucking his phone away. “Because if you don’t we’re using the clear shit until I can go out and get some duct tape.”

-

Dave presses his fist to his mouth in a typical ‘thinking’ pose. Then, his head perks up. “Oh!”

He heads over to the front foyer and picks something off the catch-all dish that he and John keep on the table by the door. Dave turns around and holds it up with a grin.

“My grip tape! This should work good enough, right?”

-

Karkat mentally adds ‘rubber bands’ to his list as he stares doubtfully at the gritty roll of tape. But Dave’s smiling and Karkat’s too fucking soft for this boy, so instead of saying ‘why the fuck do you have this but not duct tape’ he rolls his eyes and nods.

“Fuck, yeah, fine. Let’s try it.”

He has Dave hold out his cast while he slips the bag on. It’s not big enough by itself so he tears a hole in the bottom and puts Dave’s hand through it, moving it up until it covers the top of the cast and taping it around Dave’s arm. The second bag goes next, encasing the rest of the cast and being taped to the first.

He steps back, inspecting it, and gives a nod.

“I think it’ll do,” he says. “Go shower.”

He heads to the room he’s crashing in to change his lube-covered sweater and put on some jeans. He’ll head out and get started on that kit while Dave’s occupied. 

-

“Aye, aye, cap’n.” Dave says, giving a little salute as he walks off.

He picks his shades up off the couch on the way, and heads into the bathroom. He sets his shades on the sink, and then shimmies out of his pjs and boxers. He twists on the shower and, once getting the temperature just right, steps in.

He turns so his back is facing the spray, which will hopefully help to keep his arm dry. Looks like he can’t take his sweet time in here, like he usually does. Long showers were a wonderful luxury that Dave didn’t get when living with Bro, but relished in once he moved in with John.

But with his arm looking like he’s about to inseminate a fucking cow, he probably shouldn’t linger, in case some water leaks through the plastic. So Dave works quickly.

He grabs a bottle of body wash and squirts it onto a loofah that’s still sitting on the shelf. Squeezing the dollop of body wash into the loofah makes it roll off the shelf and onto the shower floor. Dave pouts as he watches all of the body wash he’d managed to get onto the loofah wash away down the drain. He considers picking it up and putting it back on the shelf, but it’ll probably just roll off again.

“Fuckin’ whatever,” Dave mumbles, turning over the bottle and coating the top of the loofah from where it still sits on the shower floor. Dave sets down the bottle and bends over to pick up the thoroughly coated loofah. He wouldn’t have to douse it again, with this much soap on it.

Dave starts his scrub down, being even more thorough than usual. If getting all cozied up on the couch with Karkat was gonna be a regular occurrence this week, then Dave wanted to fucking smell good. He scrubs down his neck, his chest, his legs. He lifts his plastic-covered cast as high as it’ll go and scrubs under his arm. He won’t be able to get the other armpit, he realizes. Then he remembers that he had fucking forgotten to put on deodorant that morning! Fuck, so he’d just made Karkat deal with his BO for over an hour.

That’s so fucking embarrassing.

How was he supposed to put deodorant on, anyway? God, was that yet another thing he’d have to get Karkat to do? Dave scrunches up his nose at the thought.

He sighs, and sets the loofah on the shelf. It rolls off and drops to the floor again. Dave rolls his eyes. Fuck it, he wasn’t picking it up again. Time was of the essence and he still had his hair to wash. Dave grabs the shampoo next and squeezes it right on top of his head. It’s hard to determine how much he’s getting out like this, but he stops when it starts to drip down his forehead. Dave sets the shampoo bottle aside, and then curses under his breath when the drop of shampoo rolls down and into his eye. Son of a fucking bitch.

Dave quickly scrubs the shampoo out of his eye, but he can already feel it stinging. Fuck his stupid fucking oversensitive eyes, fuck—

Dave keeps his eyes screwed shut as he scrubs at his hair one-handed, working the shampoo into a thick, thick lather. Fuck, he definitely poured out way too much shampoo.

He rinses thoroughly until all the suds have washed away. Okay, his eye is really fucking burning now, he’s gonna have to bite the bullet and turn around to rinse it out under the spray.

With one eye still squeezed shut, Dave turns around and—

—ohhshit—

His foot slips on the incredibly slippery shower floor, and Dave lets out a startled yelp as he stumbles, his arm flailing out for the nearest thing to latch onto—

Dave snags the shower curtain in a vice grip, put his hold quickly falters as some of the plastic rings holding up the curtain snap under the sudden weight and pull. Half of the curtain rips off the shower bar, and Dave lets out a distressed, “shhhhIIIT!” as he slips again and his feet go out from under him.

He topples backwards, landing with a loud thud and a wet smack into the tub flat on his ass.

-

The first stop Karkat makes is to his own apartment. Sollux is at work, thankfully, so he doesn’t have to deal with that bullshit. He packs another bag, throwing in pajama pants and a few other things he’d forgotten in his rush. Like fucking _socks_. And his spices. Sollux won’t miss them.

He grabs his massage oils after a moment of contemplation. He can’t go through the lube thing again. He’s pretty sure the next time he smells strawberry he’s going to pop a boner; he’s been conditioned.

The next place he goes is walgreens, to grab some fucking lotion, because everyone should have lotion, what the fuck? He buys some duct tape, too, and finds a sling in the medical aisle. He’s not sure if it’ll be helpful, but maybe it can help take some of the weight of the cast off of Dave’s shoulder. It was pretty tense when Karkat rubbed it down.

He also buys some rubber bands, just to be a little shit.

Grocery shopping next. Dave had a decent amount of food, but they were lacking in vegetables, so he buys as much as he can. He also gets a large jug of apple juice, since Dave was going through it like crazy. Who drinks apple juice that much? 

All in all, his trip doesn’t take too long. He carries his bags up to Dave’s apartment and lets himself in, depositing the borrowed key back onto the table near the door.

“Dave, I’m back!” he calls to the quiet apartment. “I got a bunch of shit since you’re a barely functioning person, apparently.”

-

Dave isn’t sure how long he sits in the shower for, but eventually he has the sense to reach over and twist the water off.

He stays put, not daring to move again until the bottom of the tub is dry as a fucking bone. Dave could give less of a shit that he must look absolutely ridiculous right now, just sitting in an empty tub, dripping wet, stark naked, with a bunch of plastic bags wrapped around his arm. But it’s better than attempting to get up and slipping again, and breaking his other fucking arm. Or his leg. Or his neck.

Dave leans his head back on the shower wall and lets out an exasperated little laugh. God, wouldn’t that be something. Karkat comes back to find Dave just slumped over the tub, bare ass out for the world to see, with his fucking neck broken because he couldn’t handle being alone for five fucking minutes to take a shower without getting himself killed.

Dave figures he has to get up at some point, however. He squints his eyes up at the barely hanging shower curtain as though it had betrayed his trust. And it had, in a way.

Dave gingerly pushes himself to his feet, carefully, carefully tip-toeing out of the tub. He looks again at the shower curtain, and clicks his tongue as he wracks his brain for a solution. He sighs. He’ll be able to think better when he’s not butt-naked.

Dave pauses, looking at his boxers and pajama pants. He’d forgotten to grab fresh clothes before he got in the shower. Dave lets out a long sigh, and grabs a towel. Then he stares at the towel for a long minute before he realizes there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to wrap this around his waist with one fucking hand.

“Fuck my life,” Dave grouses under his breath, then throws the towel to the floor. Which is fucking childish and uncool as fuck, but what the fuck ever.

Dave pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to think. He heard Karkat grabbing the keys and leaving the apartment, so he must have gone out to run some errands for himself.

So Dave could probably risk dipping out into the hall to get to his room and get some fresh clothes. This was his fucking apartment, after all. He could walk around naked if he wanted to.

“Okay, alright, okay, fine, alright,” Dave mumbles, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door. He opens the door and pokes his head out to listen for the telltale signs of someone else being in the apartment with him. An exhale of breath, the couch settling under weight, anything. But it’s quiet. The coast was clear.

Dave gets halfway down the hall before he hears the rattle of keys, a door opening, and Karkat calling out that he’s back.

FuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKKKK—

Dave scrambles down the hall, whips open his door and slams it shut behind him. Then instantly winces and screws his eyes shut, cursing himself. Fuck. He didn’t mean to slam the fucking door. Fucking whatever, he needed clothes, pronto.

Dave hurries over to his dresser and yanks it open, grabbing a pair of sweatpants. No time for boxers, he was in a fuckin’ hurry. His fucking cast arm is still dripping water everywhere from the plastic bag, along with his still-damp hair, which keeps falling into his eyes.

He goes over to the bed and sits down, and starts to fuck with the sweatpants so he can get his legs through.

-

There’s the loud slamming of a door and Karkat frowns, dropping the two shopping bags onto the couch. He keeps the one with his clothes slung over his shoulder as he walks down the hallway.

“Dave?” he calls, concerned. He steps in something wet and looks down to find water all over the floor. He looks into the bathroom to find the shower curtain hanging by a thread, water everywhere and a towel thrown onto the floor.

Fuck, he should have stayed. Did Dave hurt himself? Karkat is supposed to be looking after him, why did he leave? Guilt curls heavy in his chest.

He tosses his bag into the bedroom and walks to Dave’s door, knocking.

“Dave? Are you okay?” he asks. “Can I come in?”

He can hear muffled noises through the door. It sounds like Dave is struggling, and Karkat’s worry grows. He pushes the door open.

Dave is on the bed, hips arching up as he pulls his pants up one-handed. Karkat can’t help but stare, getting a glimpse of thighs and ass and what looks to be a deliciously pink dick before Dave manages to get the pants up. Karkat’s mouth waters.

“Uh,” he says, eyes wide. Dave is shirtless, dripping wet, hair flopping into his eyes. He’s flushed and panting and gorgeous and Karkat wants to pin him to the bed and kiss down his chest and mouth at his dick through his sweatpants.

-

Fuck, FUCK—Dave can hear Karkat calling out in concern from down the hall, and he frantically tries to get his pants on.

“Motherfuck—“ Dave grunts, shoving his legs into the holes of the sweatpants, finally managing to hunt them both down.

Then he flops onto his back, lifts his hips up into the air and yanks, pulling the pants up over his knees and—

Dave’s door opens and Dave’s heart drops into his stomach and gets boiled in his stomach acid. Karkat walks in and his eyes go wide and unmistakably look directly at Dave’s dick. Dave quickly pulls the sweatpants up the rest of the way, and then flops down onto the mattress, wheezing in exertion.

Karkat has the decency to quickly avert his gaze, but it keeps flickering back at him. Dave collects himself, laying back on the sheets for a moment trying very, VERY hard not to pop a boner at the fact Karkat just saw his dick. Why did he have to get horny from humiliation? Dave thinks of dead puppies and old lady feet with yellow toenails and Lil Cal and everything else that gives him the creeps until he’s certain his dick will behave.

Then he springs up off the mattress and walks over to Karkat like nothing had happened. Karkat was a dude, after all. It’s not like Dave’s twig and berries wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. Guys got naked in change rooms and shit all the time, this didn’t have to be A Thing.

“Sup.” Dave says, unable to come up with anything worthwhile to say.

-

Dave gets up and saunters over like it’s no big deal, like people saw his dick every day. And fuck, maybe they did. Maybe Dave and his roommate walked around naked all the time. Maybe Dave was perfectly comfortable with Karkat seeing his dick.

Karkat is not perfectly comfortable. Karkat keeps replaying the scene in his head, seeing the arch of Dave’s back, his stomach taut, his fucking _thighs_. He really needs to get laid or something, because already he can feel blood pooling towards his dick.

“I, uh,” he stumbles out. “Got some duct tape. And a sling. To help with your shoulder.”

His arm reaches out without permission, grabbing Dave’s arm and working the tape off so he can remove the dripping bag. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “It looks like you got into a fight with the shower curtain and lost. And your eye is red. Or, uh, redder than usual, I guess.”

-

From this close up, Dave can see the blush painting Karkat’s cheeks. Which is cute as hell, but is a clear indication that he saw Dave’s dick and is feeling very uncomfortable about it.

Dave looks down at his arm as Karkat reaches over and begins to remove the grip tape and pull the bags off, not even hesitating. Now Dave is blushing. Well, blushing even more now.

He tries hard not to cringe when Karkat brings up the shower curtain. Looks like he forgot to shut the shower door in his hurry to get to his room.

Should he tell Karkat what happened? It really didn’t have anything to do with his arm, he was just being a dummy and not realizing how much soap he was getting on the floor. He had a few mishaps this time, but it was a learning curve. He did not need Karkat’s help to clean himself.

Dave looks away, pouting a little. Karkat probably wouldn’t like it if he lied, so honestly was probably the best way to traverse this. Even if it was fucking embarrassing.

“I got soap in my eye,” Dave mumbles, and he feels like a stupid little kid.

Karkat pulls away the dripping bag, and Dave takes a step back, folding his arms. Or doing his best to do so, which means he moreso just grabs his cast arm by the elbow.

“And I got some body wash on the floor, and slipped. And uh...the shower curtain was the casualty.” Dave says, still not looking at Karkat, “I was about to go back in there and clean it up.”

-

Dave makes himself small again, slumping his shoulders and curling into himself. Karkat wonders if he does it consciously or if it’s just a habit. It’s… adorable, but heartbreaking. He looks so fucking ashamed and Karkat feels like an absolute tool for even bringing it up. And Dave’s backed away from him; he’s clearly uncomfortable.

So Karkat takes a step back, giving him space. Normally he’d give him shit about tripping in the bathtub, but right now Dave looks so vulnerable that Karkat’s sure no one with a heart would be able to mock him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying to make his voice soft and calming. It doesn’t work. Karkat’s voice always sounds like he gargled glass and turned the volume up to the max. Sometimes he feels bad about subjecting people to it, but he has a lot to say. “I’ll take care of it. You go sit down. Or maybe go to the sink and make sure you got all the soap out of your eye.”

He leaves the room and finds some towels, going into the bathroom to wipe up the water and try to fix the curtain. Unfortunately the thin plastic ripped as Dave went down, apparently, which means there’s no saving it. He sighs, taking it down completely and bunching it in a ball. He wonders if they have a spare, but he doubts it.

-

Karkat doesn’t seem mad about Dave making a mess in the bathroom, and even says he’ll take care of it himself.

Dave lets his left arm drop to the side and he looks back at Karkat, who is talking to him with so much patience and understanding, his voice firm but calm. Dave nods a little, and then Karkat is turning and leaving the room to go scope out the situation in the bathroom.

Dave follows him so he can rinse out his eye (he realizes now he hadn’t gotten to properly before he slipped), grimacing at how bloodshot it was. Dave plucks his shades off the sink and goes to put them on, but stops when he realizes he’s not wearing a shirt.

“Um...” Dave says quietly, turning around to look at Karkat, who is taking down the shower curtain and setting it aside. “When you’re done...sorry, uh, can you help me into my shirt? Sorry.”

-

Dave is apologizing and Karkat frowns. He knows telling him not to say sorry will likely just result in another apology, and shame and guilt on top of that. Tavros gets like this sometimes, anxious and wary, but he doesn’t know why Dave is doing it. Does he think Karkat is mad?

“It’s okay,” he says instead. “I can help you with your shirt. Go get it and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

He turns back to the bathroom, finishing mopping up the mess and hanging the towels up to dry. He throws the shower curtain away on his way to the living room, finding Dave standing there awkwardly, shirt in hand.

“I think we’ve got this down pretty well by now,” Karkat says, trying on a reassuring smile. It probably looks like a grimace. He steps into Dave’s space, highly aware of how much skin is on display, how his nipples are pebbled in the cool air, how clean and good he smells.

-

Dave dutifully lifts his arms and Karkat pulls on his shirt with a practiced motion. Karkat steps away, and Dave runs his fingers through his bangs and ruffles his hair, sending little droplets flying to and fro.

“Thanks,” Dave says, pulling on his shades.

He’s feeling a lot better now, knowing that Karkat isn’t annoyed with him, so he’s finally able to enjoy being squeaky clean from his shower (despite the mishaps) and having on a fresh set of clothes. And he finally has a shirt on again after what feels like fucking days. Hallelujah.

Dave looks over the back of the couch when he spots two plastic bags there, picking them up and bringing them into the kitchen.

He pulls out the contents curiously, and feels his ears and cheeks burn the more he takes out. All of this stuff is for him. That’s the second time now Karkat’s gone out and gotten things for him.

His brain wants to say _well, duh, that’s what he’s here for_ , but his heart cries out, _nobody has ever done anything like this for me_.

Dave’s blush intensifies as he pulls out a bottle of massage oil...several bottles. The idea of getting to get more massages from Karkat in the coming days—especially ones where Karkat doesn’t have to use Dave’s fucking strawberry-scented lube—made Dave’s chest all light and fluttery.

Dave pulls out the box with the elbow sling, and looks up at Karkat. “Could you...put this on me, too?” Dave asks, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, your massage helped my shoulder a ton, but I think this would help take some of the tension off...between massages.”

Saying those words basically makes it official that Dave fully intends to ask for more massages, and greedily accept any that Karkat offers first. Dave looks away, and busies himself with trying to pry the box open.

-

Karkat perks up a little at hearing that his massage helped, and his smile turns more genuine. He’d only admit it if there was a gun to his head, but he takes great pride and satisfaction from helping his friends. Helping Dave feels even better.

“Yeah, of course,” he says, taking the sling from Dave as he pulls it out of the box. Dave could probably do it himself, but Karkat gladly accepts the opportunity to be close again. He slips the sling around Dave easily and takes a step back. “Better?”

Dave says _between massages_ , which implies that there will be more. Karkat brought the massage oil just in case, but having confirmation that he’ll be able to touch Dave again, have him loose and sleepy against him, makes eagerness burn through him.

-

Karkat puts the sling on Dave’s arm and hooks it around his shoulder, and Dave instantly feels the weight come off his shoulder as the sling carries most of the load. He hadn’t realized how much the cast had been straining his arm until now. But the sling helps to pin his arm against his side, keeping it elevated and also out of the way. It’s snug and comfy.

“Yeah, much better,” Dave says, flexing and unflexing his fingers, which are the only things free of the cast other than a bit of his upper arm and shoulder.

Dave looks up at Karkat and smiles when he sees that Karkat is smiling and that it seems a lot less strained than earlier.

“So, what now? Finish off Harry Potter? Only three movies left.” Dave says, “That pamphlet thingy the nurse gave me said that I just had to limit looking at lights and shit, not that I had to just sit in a dark room and stare at the wall, sooo...wanna pop some corn, and finish off the last three properly?”

-

Dave’s shrugged off the earlier embarrassment, apparently, which releases some tension from Karkat’s shoulders. He missed nearly the entirety of his favorite movie in the series, too wrapped up in Dave, but he’s not going to mention that.

“Yeah, let’s do that. You have to let me know if your head starts hurting though,” he says. The sling seems to help, and Karkat is glad for that. “Do you even have popcorn?”

-

“Shit yeah I got popcorn,” Dave scoffs, walking over to the cupboard, “Johnny boy even got these shaker salt things to put in ‘em that changes the flavour. We haaave dill pickle, nacho cheese, barbecue, ketchup for some fucking reason, annnd theatre butter. What’s your poison? I tend to do a little mix-em-up with mine, personally. I do do theatre butter, barbecue, and I even sprinkle some cayenne in there, which is the least-white spice we own but is still pretty fucking white.”

Dave rambles on as he gets out a large bowl, and a pack of popcorn, putting it in the microwave and nuking it for a few minutes. When that’s all taken care of he looks over at Karkat.

“Or are you one of those boring Mary’s who just eats it plain? Ooh, or maybe one of those fancy fuckers who melts actual butter and shakes the bag up? Shit, that actually sounds so fucking good, and it would help the shaker salts really coat each piece. Anyway, whatcha feelin’?”

-

“Is your roommate a fucking popcorn connoiseur?” Karkat peers at the various shakers. “Give me barbecue and cayenne. And let’s do the actual butter, that sounds fucking delicious.”

Karkat’s never had flavored popcorn before. He didn’t know this was a thing.

The microwave beeps and Dave pulls the bag out, shaking it up. Karkat goes to the fridge to get the butter and slap a dollop into the bag. He takes the bag from Dave, holds it shut, and shakes it vigorously. 

“Do we add the flavor in the bag or in the bowl?” he asks when he thinks the butter is melted and mixed in. 

-

“Let’s add it to the bag so you can keep shaking the shit out of it,” Dave says.

And if he stares at Karkat’s thick, beautiful biceps as he shakes up the popcorn bag, well...nobody needs to know about it except him.

Dave grabs the barbecue shaker and the bottle of cayenne pepper from the spice tin, and shakes them both into the bag, standing back and watching Karkat give the bag another shake. If he starts to drool, he could blame it on the smell of the popcorn.

Karkat dumps the popcorn into the bowl, they refill their drinks (the sound Dave makes when Karkat pulls another bottle of apple juice from the grocery bags is not human, and also not very manly), and head back to the couch. Karkat sets up Half-Blood Prince, and joins Dave on the couch, who’s already got his lower half under the blanket, the bowl of popcorn beside him.

“This is the one where Dumbledore swan dives off the Astronomy Tower, right?” Dave asks.

-

Karkat shakes the bag probably harder than he needs to, flexing just a _tiny_ bit too much while he does so. He’s being ridiculous but he can’t stop. Unfortunately Dave doesn’t seem impressed.

When Karkat plops down on the couch he grabs the blanket, pulling it over himself as well.

“If that’s what you want to call one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the series then yeah, sure,” he scoffs. He grabs a handful of popcorn and pops it in his mouth. His eyes go wide at the taste. 

“This is _good_ ,” he says, surprised, already reaching for more. 

-

“I have a tendency to try and alleviate negative emotions with humour,” Dave says flippantly, “I cried like a bitch when Dumbleydore croaked, don’t fuckin’ get it twisted. I ain’t a monster. But I totally cried harder when Hedwig died.”

Karkat pulls the blanket over himself and it does absolutely nothing to disturb the blanket on Dave’s legs, but Dave scoots over anyway and pulls the blanket up a little closer. It’s so he can reach the popcorn better, that’s all.

“The one thing about the movies I actually didn’t mind them changing, was Hedwig’s death,” Dave goes on, “In the book, she’s in her cage on Hagrid’s bike and the Death Eater zaps her and she just fucking...crumbles in her cage, dead. I had to fucking put the book down and walk away for a few minutes, like fuck that. That transphobic TERF did my girl so fuckin’ dirty. But in the movie, Harry lets Hedwig fly to the Burrow on her own, because she’s a fuckin’ strong, independent owl who ain’t about to die in a cage. And she goes out in a blaze of fucking glory, she swoops in and damn-near scratches that Death Eater fucker’s eyes out before she gets zapped. And it’s still fucking gut-wrenching watching Harry watch her plummet down into the trees and he just has to...fuckin’ fly away, can’t even give her a sweet-ass Viking funeral like she deserved. Fuck, I’m gonna get all emotional and the movie hasn’t even been on five minutes yet. Shit, this ain’t even the one where Hedwig beefs it. Anyway, when I croak I want a fucking Viking funeral. Just throw my limp carcass into a boat and push me out to sea and light that shit the fuck up. Losing the deposit on the boat-rental is gonna sting a hell of a lot less than funeral costs, I’ll fuckin’ tell you that—“

The only time Dave stops running his mouth is when he’s throwing another bite of popcorn inside it, and that’s only because he didn’t want Karkat to give him shit for talking with his mouth full like before.

He chews each bite fully, swallows, and then picks right back where he left off.

“You know I’m surprised that Half-Blood Prince ain’t your fave outta the bunch. It’s the one that’s got the biggest rom-com factor out of all of them. I swear the entire movie is just spent focusing on all the love triangles and shit, and then in the last five minutes they panicked and went oh SHIT we gotta kill Dumbledore and set up shit for the last two movies.”

-

Karkat listens to Dave ramble on, reluctantly impressed. At least he chews before he starts up talking again. When there’s finally a lull in Dave’s speech, Karkat jumps in.

“The romance in Harry Potter is disappointing and boring as fuck,” he says, taking another handful of popcorn. “Maybe if I hadn’t read the book it would be better but a fucking monster in Harry’s chest? Really? Although in the movies Ginny’s just... really fucking weird.”

Fuck, it’s been awhile since he read the books, but he remembers being so fucking thrown by the weird writing. And he can get into almost anything to do with romance.

“Ron and Hermione are good together though,” he says. “I like how they bounce off each other. The movies completely destroyed both of their characters, but that’s not really surprising.”

He reaches for more popcorn at the same time Dave does, and it’s cliche as fuck when their hands brush. Suddenly this feels like a date, and Karkat isn’t sure how to handle it.

-

Their fingers brush together as they both go for more popcorn and wow that is corny (ha) but damn if Dave doesn’t still feel a warm jolt shoot up his arm, anyway.

He grabs another handful like nothing happened and leans back on the cushions.

“Ginny was such a spitfire in the books, I loved her. She had an actual personality, no offence to the actress who portrays her. I’m sure it was just the director’s fault, at least in the later films when they were just focused on making her the Love Interest.” Dave rolls his eyes and shoves the popcorn into his mouth.

“And yeah, Ron and Hermione are great, but they definitely clashed more in the books in a more like, I dunno, convincing way? In the movies the only time they really clash is in this one, during the love triangle. But in the books there would be MONTHS of Harry having to put up with them just straight up not even speaking to one another. I think in Azkaban it was because Ron thought Hermione’s cat ate his rat? I don’t remember it’s been a while since I read them, obviously. But still.”

Dave should have suggested this so much sooner. Not that he wasn’t having fun playing Monopoly, but getting the chance to just shoot the shit about movies while scarfing down popcorn? With a friggin’ babe like Karkat? Dave is in heaven right now.

He peeks at the bowl, waiting for Karkat’s hand to move towards it and then goes in himself. Yeah, it’s the oldest trick in the book, but what the fuck ever. Maybe he’ll ask Karkat to count their shoulders next.

-

Their fingers touch again and again. It can’t be an accident, can it? But of course it is. Just because it sends a delightful tingling sensation up his arm doesn’t mean Dave feels anything. He’s yammering away, he clearly doesn’t give a shit.

“Yeah, he thought her cat ate Scabbers and to be fair he was definitely on a mission,” he says. “Too bad Scabbers ended up being a fat bald man who slept on his pillow every night. Creepy as shit.”

He pauses, glancing at Dave out of the corner of his eye.

“Okay, defining moment of our friendship,” he says dramatically. “What are your thoughts on Snape? Choose your words carefully.”

-

Dave’s heart lurches at the words our friendship—Karkat thinks they’re friends? Karkat considers Dave his friend?

Dave hides the fact he wants to break into a huge grin by blowing air out of his cheeks.

“Fuck, the pressure’s on. Alright, lemme think on it,” Dave says, leaning deeper into the cushions and turning his head to the side (towards Karkat, and they’re so close by this point he could put his head on Karkat’s shoulder if he leaned over just a bit more) as he hums in contemplation.

“I think he definitely had a hard life, and that he tried to be good but shit just kept knocking him down. Like people took one look at him and went, yep, that’s a villian. He’s gotta be a Death Eater. Even Dumbledore. Which ain’t surprising because he used Harry so obviously he was gonna use Snape, too. He was like, oh this dude will totes blend in with the bad guys at Voldemort’s mixer, I’ll send him. But I don’t think a lifetime of being judged for the way you look and getting bullied justifies the shit Snape did. He didn’t have to leave Harry in the dark just like everyone else always did. He could have been in Harry’s corner. He fucking knew what Dumbledore was doing, raising Harry up to be a fucking child soldier, and he enabled it. And on top of that, he had the hots for his mom! If he loved Lily so fucking much, why didn’t he look out for Harry more? Just because he looked like James, the guy who bullied him and married Lily? Grow the fuck up, Snivellus, you’re not in fucking high school anymore. Pull your cock out of your ears and show the fuck up to your son’s baseball game for once in your goddamn life, and not when you’re choking on your own blood minutes away from dying before his eyes, just tacking on yet another goddamn thing for Harry to feel traumatized and guilty about for the rest of his fuckin’ life.”

Dave ends his tangent, then looks over at Karkat and his brow furrows. “If you’re a Snape Fucker I am turning this bowl over your head.”

-

Oh, Karkat may actually be in love.

“Fuck no,” he laughs. “Snape is awful. I appreciate his character but I fucking hate him. He had a hard life but he _chose_ to be a fucking asshole to _kids_. Neville’s biggest fear was Snape in the third book! A kid’s biggest fear shouldn’t be their fucking teacher. He terrorized them.”

He takes a breath, feeling the warmth radiate from Dave being so close to him. He could reach over, tug him into his chest. It would be so damn easy. But he clenches his fists beneath the blanket.

“He didn’t love Lily, he was obsessed with her and what she represented to him,” he says. “He put the blame on James for stealing her away but he’s the one who drove her away by being a fucking racist. And Harry named his son after him? ‘Bravest man I ever knew.’ Such goddamn bullshit. He should have named him after Remus or Hagrid.”

He turns his head, smiling slightly, and is surprised by how close their faces are.

“I guess you passed,” he says.

-

“Shit, I totally forgot about that bit,” Dave says, bringing his head up, “He called her a mudblood and they just fuckin’ skimmed right over that in the movie, huh? All those people with ‘always’ tattoos must be feeling really fuckin’ dumb. Congrats, your tattoo represents a super toxic Nice Guy relationship where the guy showed his true colours to the girl the moment she rejected him.”

Karkat turns his head and smiles at Dave and Dave’s stomach backflips because oh wow they are super fucking close right now. Then Karkat says he passed in a super quiet voice, and Dave could do it. He could fucking do it. He could lean in right now and kiss Karkat.

Dave wipes his forehead and makes an overexaggerated ‘phew!’, then bumps their shoulders together.

“The Snape Hating Club ain’t exactly niche, but I’m still glad as fuck we’re both in it,” Dave says, “I would hate for our friendship to fall to pieces over something so stupid.”

Friendship. Just saying it out loud makes Dave feel giddy. Even if the things he thinks about Karkat sometimes (most of the time) go well past friendship. At least it’s something. It’s not just acquaintances anymore. Far past strangers.

Dave can’t hold it back anymore, and his face finally splits into a big grin.

-

Karkat doesn’t usually smile this much, and it’s actually making his cheeks start to hurt. He gently bumps Dave’s shoulder in return. Dave’s smile is blinding and gorgeous and perfect and so many other words that escape him right now. It’s so bright that he has to look away before he does something stupid like lean forward and kiss him.

“I’ll have you know that hating Severus Snape is like, sixty percent of my core personality,” he says. “I won’t stand for Snape apologists under my roof. ...Or your roof, in this case.”

He’s kidding, obviously, though he did get in lots of heated arguments with Eridan about this. 

“Did you ever hear about the Snape wives?” he laughs. “Middle-aged women who were completely convinced they were married to Snape on the astral plane. Can you fucking believe that? They got together and held little conventions.”

-

“I would be convinced you are fucking with me if I didn’t have the unfortunate knowledge of knowing that Twilight Moms were also a thing that definitely happened.” Dave says with a sigh, “We ought to write a thesis on all the reasons why straight people shouldn’t be allowed to breed. Exhibit A: Snape Wives and Twilight Moms. We can put together a power point and everything.”

-

Karkat groans, tilting his head back against the couch.

“I fucking forgot about Twilight. And Twilight Moms, holy shit,” he says. He peers at Dave from the corner of his eye, mouth twitching. “Team Edward or team Jacob?”

-

Dave snorts. “Team Charlie, yo.” he says, “He was the only one who had Bella’s best interests at heart and how did she repay him? By making herself immortal at like, seventeen years old and just being an overall ungrateful shit to him for the entire series.”

-

“Fair enough,” Karkat says, grabbing more popcorn. “I’d fucking hate to be seventeen forever. Could you fucking imagine? Being seventeen _sucked_. I never understood why immortal vampires chose to go to high school over and over again. Like once wasn’t enough? I’d rather fucking die, thanks.”

-

“You’re telling me, I couldn’t wait to fuckin’ grow up,” Dave says. He considers going for the bowl again when Karkat does but decides that’ll be too obvious, and Karkat would catch on.

“I was the fuck outta Houston the minute I was considered a legal adult.”

That was because Bro threw him out on his ass, but still. Thank god for John. Otherwise Dave would have had nowhere else to go.

“My childhood was a fucking shitshow, if I had been stuck being seventeen forever I would have spontaneously combusted.”

Dave’s heart jumps a little at the fact he just stated so blatantly he had a bad childhood. He didn’t usually talk about it. But at this point, he isn’t too surprised. With Karkat, he knows there’s no judgement, so it’s like he can say it openly and know it won’t push him away.

If anything, Karkat makes Dave want to open up more. So it’ll be all the easier to let Karkat in.

-

Karkat considers asking about Dave’s childhood; what made it so shitty? Where did he get all those scars? Does Karkat need to go kill someone? But he doesn’t want to pry, doesn’t want to pressure Dave into spilling his life story if he wants to keep it close to his chest. 

So he says, “Houston, huh? I guess that accent wasn’t fake, then.”

He wonders if Dave actively worked to get rid of his accent. He doesn’t know why he would; it’s fucking hot when he’s laying it on thick like he was when he was teasing Karkat, and it’s goddamn adorable when it slips out when he’s sleepy and relaxed.

-

“Nope, but this one is,” Dave says, talking in his usual voice, “Honestly I’ve been doing it for so long I forget sometimes that it’s covering up an accent. I just decided as a kid that I didn’t like it and so I trained myself to stop.”

What was that about letting Karkat in? He was still lying through his teeth.

“It’s gotten to the point it requires a conscious effort for me to even slip back into it on command. Unless I’m sleepy, drunk or stoned, that is.” Dave shrugs.

He peeks over at Karkat out of the corner of his eye, and holds back a smirk.

“But it’s a pretty fun trick at parties,” Dave says, slipping right into the subtle drawl, his lip pulling up at the corner as he waits for Karkat’s reaction.

-

Dave easily slides back into his accent and Karkat tries to repress a shiver. Fuck that’s hot. Why is that hot? Dave’s lilting voice makes his skin tingle. He can feel his cheeks heating up and he stares determinedly at the tv.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asks, making a conscious effort to keep his voice from shaking. “It’s nice.”

‘Nice’ is not the word Karkat wants to use. Beautiful, sweet, captivating. All would be better descriptors, but they’re too much, and Karkat doesn’t want to scare Dave away.

-

Dave scratches a little at his cheek, and huffs out a little breathy laugh.

He knew the accent got a rise out of Karkat, but it still gave Dave butterflies to hear that Karkat liked it.

“Uhh, well...I picked one up from hearin’ everyone around me talk like this, but, uh...my brother didn’t. I never heard him slip into one even once. And uh, I dunno...y’see in the media all the time how they make Southern folks out to be this stereotype of bein’ idiots. An’ so I wanted to train myself out of it because I wanted people t’...listen when I talked.”

Dave trails off a little. He’s leaving out the bit about how Bro basically forced him not to speak in an accent, but Karkat doesn’t need to know about that particular part of the sob story.

“I almost don’t think about it much, livin’ here, ‘cause nobody around here has an accent. So it’s easy to just...parrot everyone and sound like they do. But I will admit it can be hella strainin’ on the vocal cords. So talkin’ like this is...kinda a nice break, to be honest.”

Dave shuffles a bit in his seat and nudges Karkat in the arm again.

“So I’ll keep it up, since ya think it’s nice an’ all.”

-

Karkat frowns as Dave talks. His voice is lovely without an accent, but even better like this. It makes Karkat’s chest ache in the best way, that Dave feels he can share this with him. But he also feels a deep rage, that he felt like he had to hide his voice away in the first place. Karkat thinks Dave’s mentioned his brother before, and he’s starting to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he’s behind Dave’s past abuse. 

“That’s fucking stupid,” he declares. “How you speak doesn’t reflect your intelligence and you’re clearly not an idiot.”

Dave is right next to him, so close, pressed from shoulder to thigh. When did that happen? Karkat leans a bit of his weight against Dave and sighs as the smell of his shampoo drifts over him.

“Talk however you want,” Karkat says. “I like your voice.”

Is voice kink a thing? Because Karkat thinks he might have it, when it comes to Dave at least. He hopes that last part wasn’t too much, that it doesn't make Dave uncomfortable.

-

Dave’s heart is fucking racing now and he’s sure Karkat can both hear and feel it, since they’ve gotten so close.

Fuck, they are practically cuddling under this blanket right now. They sort of just kept scooting closer together until Dave was practically in Karkat’s lap.

...Mmm. That was a yummy idea.

No, no. Dammit, Dave. Down, boy.

“I know it’s dumb,” Dave says, “But I was a stupid kid. Even dumber teenager. Hence why bein’ seventeen forever woulda been busted as all hell for me.”

Dave presses into Karkat’s weight. Karkat smells so good, and he’s so warm, adding more heat to Dave than the blanket they’re both under. Dave really wants to lean his head on Karkat’s shoulder. It was so comfy before, back when Dave was getting that shoulder massage.

“But thanks, Kat,” Dave says, turning his head a little and flashing Karkat a smile, “I think I’ll keep it keep it up. Since it’s you. So it’s all good.”

-

Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck. Karkat can’t fucking handle this. Dave’s sweet voice is so close to his ear, and Dave is smiling and he’s warm and smells good and he’s making Karkat feel _special_. Like he’s been let in on a small, vulnerable part of Dave that no one else gets to see. He calls him _Kat_ again, so casual, like it’s nothing. 

And Karkat is only fucking human. He lifts his arm and stretches it over Dave’s shoulder, pulling him even closer, so his head is resting on Karkat’s chest. Dave won’t be able to see his brick-red face like this. Dave seemed fine falling asleep on Karkat before, but that was when he was hurting, so this is kind of different.

“This okay?” he asks hesitantly.

-

Dave can’t fucking breathe.

He wants to, because he’s pressed up against Karkat’s chest and he smells really fucking good, but he can’t do it. He can’t get a breath in.

His heart is fucking pounding. But...pressed up against Karkat like this, he can feel that Karkat’s is pounding, too.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

Dave is going to fucking die. This gorgeous fucking man is wrapping his arm around him and pulling Dave close to him, and it is no longer that they are ‘practically’ cuddling, they are 100%, abso-fucking-lutely cuddling right now.

Dave wants to kiss him so bad. Dave wants Karkat to grab him by the chin and pull him up and kiss him, because Dave knows he’s too much of a fucking coward to go for it on his own.

Dave would be trembling if he wasn’t so warm, pressed up against him like this.

Dave nods his head a little. “...Y-yeah.” he says. And since he’s not thinking so much about the way his voice comes out anymore, he isn’t able to keep the tremor out of it, or stop himself from stuttering.

Dave said he would have hated to be stuck as a teenager forever, but he feels like a teenager now. All nervous and flustered around a hot boy.

Dave shuffles, and clears his throat a little. “I would have come over to weep into your big broad chest as soon as Dumbledore said ‘Severus, please’, so this was bound t’ happen at some point.”

Yeah. A real inevitability.

-

Nerves wrack through him as he waits for Dave’s answer. The moment stretches out torturously, until Dave’s quiet, halting voice tells him it’s okay. It certainly doesn’t _sound_ okay, and Karkat wonders if he’s gone too far, if Dave wants space and Karkat just totally fucking blew it. 

Then he’s talking about crying into Karkat’s chest, calling him big and broad in a way that isn’t mocking. It’s not even a compliment but he bites his lip against the swooping sensation in his gut.

“Sob as much as you need to,” he says, thumb starting to rub against Dave’s shoulder in small circles. “I forgot to buy tissues but I have a lot of fucking shirts.”

-

Dave lets out a little scoff, and closes his eyes as Karkat’s thumb starts to rub his shoulder back and forth in soothing little circles.

God. Karkat is so good. He’s so fucking good. And absolutely Dave’s type, to a fucking T. He checks off every single one of Dave’s boxes, crossing off ones Dave himself didn’t even know he had.

He’s perfect.

He’s too good to be true.

There’s no way someone like Karkat could be Dave’s soulmate.

He wants to kiss him so goddamn much. He wants to crawl into Karkat’s lap and kiss him until they’re both breathless and panting and wanting. Then he wants Karkat to fuck him nice and slow, right here on the couch, warm and cozy and soft and safe and perfect under the blankets.

But Karkat isn’t his soulmate. He can’t be.

So Dave doesn’t kiss him.

He steals this precious moment while he has it, and runs off like a burglar into the night, clutching a precious, sparkling jewel to his chest. And he’ll relish in it until the cops bust down his door and pluck the jewel away and throw his ass in the brig. Destined to spend the rest of his days alone.

But for now, for these next couple of days, Karkat is here. Warm and real and sweet, pressed up beside him. And for the first time ever, Dave feels truly safe, and happy, and everything is perfect.

So he’ll be a little bit selfish, just a little bit longer.

He nuzzles into Karkat’s warmth with a sigh. Dave reaches up and pulls off his shades, and sets them in Karkat’s lap.

Entrusting him with them.

He knows that he can.

-

Dave sighs and goes lax against him; Karkat can feel the tension draining out of him and it’s such a powerful feeling, knowing that he’s the reason behind it. Dave takes his shades off and carefully deposits them in Karkats lap. 

He feels like he’s been given a gift, like there’s a weight behind the action that Karkat can’t quite comprehend. He has a hunch that Dave doesn’t take off his sunglasses very much, usually. He could be wrong, of course, but he likes to think that Dave’s opening up to him in little ways, trusting him with something precious as a precursor to trusting him with himself.

It’s stupid, because all this train of thought is doing is making him _want_. Want Dave in his lap or pinned beneath him, want his dick covered with strawberry lube. Want to lay down beside him and kiss him until he fell asleep, curled against each other. Want to wake up to morning breath and messy hair and bright smiles.

Dave is dangerous, Karkat realizes. He should have figured it out before. This desperate, mounting want is too much. But Karkat’s already in too deep. It’s only been what, two days? And he’s falling hard and fast, just like always.

For someone who deserves better, for someone who isn’t his soulmate.

But Karkat will keep this for as long as he can, because he’s a terrible person. A needy, cloying jackass. He’ll be here for as long as Dave will have him. Whether that’s until he’s healed or long after, Karkat doesn’t know.

Dave nuzzles against him and Karkat does a bad thing; he leans down, rubs his cheek against Dave’s hair, and subtly presses a kiss there, feather light. 

-

Dave holds back a shiver as he feels Karkat’s nose press into his hair.

Fuck. Oh fuck.

This was—they couldn’t even excuse this as something to help Dave heal, because Dave was feeling perfectly fine right now. Hell, they couldn’t even wave this off as platonic anymore.

Karkat had just referred to what they had going on as a “friendship”, but then he pulled Dave against his chest, rubbed idle little patterns into his shoulder, and pressed his face into Dave’s hair.

He had to be making a move. He had to be.

Dave nearly lets out a gasp as he feels what can only be Karkat’s lips pressing into his hair. It’s unmistakable. It’s a warm, soft press—so, so incredibly soft. Like Karkat was trying to put it there without Dave noticing.

But jokes on Karkat, he doesn’t realize that Dave is hyperaware of every little movement Karkat makes. And that every time Karkat touches him, whether it’s the slightest brush of fingers as they unnecessarily pass dice back and forth, or dig their hands into a bowl of popcorn, or the firm and warm press of hands against his neck and shoulders and scalp as Karkat pulls the tension out of body.

What does he do?

He wants Karkat to make a move, but at the same time...

He can’t. He can’t do it. He knows Karkat can’t be his soulmate, and he’s already in so deep, it’ll hurt no matter what at this point, but—

At least he can spare himself a little bit of pain, if he doesn’t let it go any farther. He doesn’t have to live with the memory of Karkat’s lips pressed against his, and know he’ll never get to have it again.

Not after Karkat finds who he’s truly meant to be with.

But Dave is fucking selfish. So he turns his head to bury his face into Karkat’s shirt, breathing his intoxicating scent in deep.

Then he kisses him, the tiniest, quickest press, into the soft skin just below his collarbone. He buries his nose into the spot, his ears on fire, his heart pounding thick and deep and fast.

-

Dave tenses nearly imperceptibly as Karkat drops a kiss into his hair and for an excruciating second he thinks he fucked up. He ruined this, pushed too far, got too greedy. But then Dave is burying his head under Karkat’s chin and he _swears_ he feels the gentle brush of lips there, so fucking soft and quick. His heart stutters.

But he has to be imagining it, right? Or it was an accident. That seems more likely than a wonderful, beautiful boy pressing a kiss to his skin. 

He sighs. He wishes he was better; wishes he was someone who could deserve Dave. That he wasn’t poison, slowly seeping into people’s lives and dragging them down. 

It’s going to hurt, when Dave inevitably realizes that Karkat’s got a giant fucking crush on him and rejects him. He doesn’t want his stupid feelings to ruin what they’re building here. If he was a good person he’d look after Dave until he’s healed and then walk out of his life and never look back. But instead he’s going to hold on, as tight as he can, because the world seems so much brighter when Dave smiles at him.

He grips Dave tighter, squeezing him gently. He wants to ask if he’s okay, if he’s in pain, if there’s anything he can do to help, but he doesn’t want to ruin this moment. So he leans back against the couch and enjoys the feeling of Dave pressing into him, eyes staring unseeing at the screen.

-

Karkat doesn’t kiss him again, but he also doesn’t pull away when Dave kisses him. In fact, the arm he has around Dave’s shoulder squeezes him even tighter.

Karkat watches the movie in silence, holding Dave close and tight.

Dave turns his head back around and lets his eyes flutter open. He looks at the screen, but he can’t comprehend what’s happening. All he can feel is Karkat’s warm breath fanning across his hair, his chest rising and falling slowly, his pounding heartbeat—racing just as much as Dave’s.

Dave wants to open his mouth and say something. He wants to tell Karkat that likes him—likes him as something much more than a friend.

But he’s afraid. He’s a coward. He can’t do it.

But what if Dave is filled with regrets after this? What if after Karkat finds his soulmate, Dave will have wished he hadn’t been such a coward. Even if he and Karkat were destined for each other, that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy this while they had it, right? This thing that was so warm and safe and comfortable and right...couldn’t be wrong.

Lots of people dated and played the field before they found their soulmate. That was the name of the game, it’s how most people found each other in the first place. Dave had tried, a couple of times. But he wasn’t much for dating, and he had a hard time opening up to people and that drove people away.

But with Karkat, everything was different. Everything Dave thought he knew about himself got turned on its head. And it was strange and terrifying, but exciting, too. Dave wanted to find out even more about himself. He wanted Karkat to spread him open and crawl inside and find every last one.

_I like you so much and it’s terrifying._

_I think I’m falling in love with you. I think I’ve been falling since the moment I saw you and I’m still falling._

Dave closes his eyes. He can’t say it. He can’t. Can’t. _Can’t._

Dave turns his head back around to bury his face into Karkat’s shoulder, nuzzling in deep. Then he brings his arm up and drapes it over Karkat’s stomach, clutching at the hem of his shirt by his hip.

And he stays quiet. Just enjoys the moment in silence, drinking down every last second and committing Karkat’s scent to memory.

-

Dave is halfway in his lap and if Karkat were more courageous he’d pull him the rest of the way, have him fall asleep to the feeling of Karkat’s hands running up and down his back. Dave’s fingers gripping the edge of his sweater makes it easy to imagine him slipping his hands up under it, exploring Karkat’s skin with a curious hand. He bats the imagery away firmly.

It’s so quiet. Dave snuffles into his shoulder every so often, but beyond that the only sounds are their breathing and the movie as it comes to an end. It’s so easy to pretend that this is a date, that they’re lovers cuddling during a movie marathon. Karkat’s heart thrums with desire.

As the credits roll across the screen Karkat sighs. He’s not ready to give this up; it’s not nearly enough, when Dave’s presence is so addicting. But his stomach growls loudly in the quiet, disturbing the peace.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, embarrassed, giving Dave another little squeeze. “We should probably eat something more substantial than popcorn. Do you want more of the pizza or should I cook something?”

-

Dave keeps his head tucked into Karkat’s shoulder for the rest of the movie. Which he would probably be doing even if he didn’t need to limit screen time and rest his eyes.

Eventually the credits are rolling and right around this time Karkat’s stomach makes a loud grumble. Dave doesn’t even snicker, which is unlike him. Instead, his mouth pulls into an affectionate little smile.

“I saw that you got some more spices,” Dave says, keeping his voice quiet.

It seems only right, in this calm and still moment. He’s still doing his accent, too, which is even easier to do now since he’s so relaxed. Putting on the Fake Voice is the challenge when he gets like this, because he naturally wants to be low and slow, just let his voice drift. And it can, like this. Around Karkat.

“They looked like they’ve all been used. I guess you brought them from home? I wanna see what you can make with ‘em.” Dave pulls his head up and gives Karkat a smile, and if he were someone more brave he would lean in and kiss him right now.

This is all so soft and domestic and perfect. It’s just missing the sweet little kisses to go along with the snuggling and everything else.

But he doesn’t do it.

His heart was ready to explode from just those puny little kisses they did do. And Dave’s heart kicks back up again just thinking about it.

They kissed. Well, indirectly, Dave supposes. But still.

Karkat kissed him. Willingly. And Dave kissed Karkat back, and Karkat didn’t push him away.

He knows he could do it. That he could kiss Karkat and that Karkat wouldn’t stop him. He knows that Karkat could kiss him first and Dave also wouldn’t be able to stop it. As much as he should. As much as he knew he’d be in pain for it later. In the moment, he wouldn’t be thinking about what came after.

He’d just let Karkat whisk him away, for as long as he would have him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Dave asks.

-

It’s a good thing Karkat is sitting down because Dave’s soft, sleepy smile paired with his slow drawl makes him go weak in the knees. 

His face is so close; they’re sharing the same air. Karkat could lean in and catch his lips and learn what Dave tastes like and it would be so _easy_. Would Dave kiss him back? Would he bite at Karkat’s lips harshly or move them slow? Would his gasps and moans be the same as the ones Karkat tugs out of him with his fingers rubbing tension out of his muscles or would they be different?

Karkat feels so settled with Dave nestled against him, more than he thinks he ever has. He’s sleepy, but not in the way he gets when his insomnia has kept him up for days and days. More like he could fall asleep here, again, for the second time in as many days. Karkat has always slept better with someone next to him.

“Come talk to me,” he tells Dave, when he asks what he can do to help. His thumb continues its slow motions and he makes no attempt to move. Dave is still on him, after all, and Karkat doesn’t have the strength of character needed to push him away again.“Keep me entertained.”

“You got any requests?” he asks. “What’s your favorite food? I’ll do my best.”

-

Dave had always been a blabbermouth.

He’d grown up with someone who never said what felt like more than two words in the eighteen years Dave had lived under his roof. And anytime Dave tried to speak, he was shut down. Even if he was good and didn’t use an accent, his brother never cared about what Dave had to say.

So Dave didn’t speak.

He didn’t speak to the kids or the teachers at school, unless spoken to. The only time he could talk was when he was alone. Bro left the apartment for hours, sometimes even days at a time. Those times were the only pleasant memories Dave had of that apartment. He could talk to himself all he wanted, he could call John or Rose or Jade and talk on the phone for hours, actually getting to hear their voices.

But even they told him that he could never shut the fuck up.

They didn’t know he was just trying to get it all out of his system before he wasn’t allowed again.

Karkat said he liked Dave’s voice.

And now Karkat’s telling Dave to entertain him by talking. Because he doesn’t think Dave is annoying when he jabbers on about anything and everything that pops into his mind. He actually likes it.

Dave feels like he could cry. But he holds it back. That would just be fucking stupid, for one thing, and for another he doesn’t want to ruin this moment or make Karkat worry.

So Dave just says, “...Okay.”

Karkat’s still rubbing his thumb across Dave’s shoulder, back and forth. He asks what Dave wants to eat, but if he tells him anything that means they’d have to get up, and Dave doesn’t want to.

“...Surprise me?” Dave says finally, “I’m not picky. I’m sure anything you’d make would be good.”

-

Dave’s confidence in his cooking skills is incredibly sweet but misplaced. Still, Karkat casts his mind about, trying to remember what they have in the kitchen. The vegetables he just got. There’s still some chicken that’s dethawed, and some bacon. Eggs, cheese. So many options.

He hums contemplatively.

“Okay, I think I’ve got something,” he says. “Are you gonna get up or am I back to carrying you?”

He means it as a joke, but heat rushes through him. Dave is so light that carrying him isn’t a problem at all, and that opens up _so many_ options in the bedroom--

Which Karkat isn’t thinking about, because Dave is half in his lap and Karkat got lucky, last time, when Dave didn’t notice his erection because he was blissed out from massage, but there’s no way he’d get away with it again. 

-

Holy fucking shit Karkat is so sexy it is not fucking fair.

Dave tries to hide the fact his cheeks light up like the Fourth of July by shooting Karkat a sarcastic grin. “I think I can manage.”

Dave uses Karkat’s shoulder as somewhat unnecessary leverage to push himself up to his feet, mostly just as an excuse to touch Karkat for a little bit longer until he couldn’t anymore.

Dave goes over to change out the movie while Karkat heads into the kitchen. He can’t believe they’ve spent all fucking day plowing through the Harry Potter movies, Dave’s never watched them all in one go like this before.

Okay, well, technically he hasn’t even really been watching them, but whatever. Dave pops in part one of Deathly Hallows and leaves it on the title screen. They can start the movie once they’ve got dinner ready.

Dave heads into the kitchen and pushes himself up onto the counter, honestly quite pleased with himself for being able to pull it off, with one arm in a sling. Thank goodness all those tricks on his board had built up some upper body strength.

Dave crosses his ankles together and grins down at his Karkat. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off if you need the counter space,” Dave says, “Whatcha gonna make, anyhow? What’s on the menu, Chef Vantas?”


	5. Chapter 5

Karkat lets out a sigh of disappointment as Dave gets off of him, immediately missing his warmth. He stands up and walks into the kitchen and starts gathering ingredients, listening as Dave shuffles in behind him. When he turns around Dave is sitting on the counter, a shit-eating grin on his face that makes the scolding Karkat was going to give him--don’t put your ass where the food goes, moron--die on his tongue.

He turns away, grabbing some pots and a cutting board.

“Just a basic carbonara,” he says. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

He starts by putting a pot on to boil, then cuts up some of the bacon and grates some cheese. He sets a bit of it aside for later and adds the rest into a bowl with eggs and pepper, mixing them together thoroughly. 

Carbonara is pretty easy, so he’s able to listen to Dave talk while he concentrates, though he doesn’t participate, letting his smooth voice wash over him. He’s not ignoring Dave; he _hmm_ s and _uh huh_ s as he goes, huffing a laugh occasionally.

He cooks up the bacon pieces in a skillet, adding some chopped garlic to it, and putting the pasta in to cook. When the noodles are done he drains them and adds the egg mixture, stirring it slowly in. He adds the bacon and garlic, dripping a good portion of the fat into the noodles as well, and stirs it again.

He grabs his herbs and spices, adding oregano and thyme and a bit of rosemary. Then tops it with the cheese he set aside. It smells pretty fucking good, but the important thing is that it’s edible, and hopefully Dave will enjoy it.

-

Dave has no idea what ‘carbonara’ is, but it sounds good. Dave watches as Karkat cuts up bacon and grates cheese. He’s a little distracted watching the slope of Karkat’s shoulders move as he works, but then he remembers Karkat wanted him to talk, so Dave opens his mouth and just lets his mind wander, telling random stories about him and John and their cooking mishaps but also their triumphs. He goes off into separate tangents about things before looping back to his original story, usually forgetting where he left off, causing him to repeat shit before he catches himself. Sometimes he would forget about the original point he was making altogether and go off on a B-Plot and never recover from it, which would eventually turn into a completely new story based off a single word or phrase from the B-Plot.

It was a goddamn mess, but he kept the word vomit coming. And Karkat never turned around to tell him he was annoying the hell out of him or to shut the fuck up. Which was still something he was getting used to.

Eventually Karkat is plating their food, and Dave scoots himself off the counter and goes over to see the final results. It’s pasta, and it looks like something right out of a magazine, or a fancy Italian restaurant. It smells fucking amazing.

“Good fucking lord, I need that in my stomach right this second,” Dave says, “Karks, that looks awesome.”

They refill their drinks and take their bowls of pasta back over to the couch. Dave hits play on the title screen, and the movie starts. Dave twists some pasta onto his fork and pops it into his mouth, slurping it down. The noodles slap him on the chin on the way down.

Dave makes an appreciative sound with his mouth full of noodles, nodding to himself as he prepares another forkful as he chews the first.

“So fuckin’ good,” Dave says, when he’s swallowed his first bite. “I don’t know why you’re as humble about this as you are about everything else about you. You cook as good as you look.”

Dave turns and jabs his fork towards Karkat. “And don’t you fuckin’ say somethin’ like ’oh well it must taste pretty fucking bad then’. Fuck you, I saw you about to do it. There’s a reason I called you ‘Hottie’ before I learned your name. You’re a grade-A babe and you’re just going to have to learn to accept that about yourself.”

-

Karkat’s mouth, which had been open to say almost exactly that, clicks closed as his cheeks flare. He shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth and sinks down into the couch like a child who’s been scolded. The food tastes alright, at least. It’s pretty difficult to mess up carbonara.

He grumbles something incomprehensible and takes a sip of water, trying not to squirm at the praise. It’s not like he’s _never_ been called hot before, and he knows he isn’t entirely hideous. It’s not like babies burst into tears when they see his face. He’s made peace (mostly) with the fact that he’s not a lot of people’s type. Barrel-chested, with a weird squished nose and crooked teeth, permanently messy hair that even Kanaya can’t do anything with, big ears and thick eyebrows. He is, at best, an acquired taste.

But maybe he’s Dave’s type, if Dave isn’t just fucking with him. He doesn’t seem to be, and Karkat doesn’t think he’s the kind of person that would, and he… doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

“Dunno why you’re so damn insistent about it,” he grouches. “Are you sure your eyes are okay?”

-

Karkat shoves some pasta into his mouth and sinks back into the couch, grumbling to himself.

Dave grins. Karkat is so fucking cute when he’s flustered. He wants to see how far he can push it. Obviously Karkat isn’t used to praise and compliments like this, and that was a motherfucking travesty. Time for Dave to fix that.

“My eyes are perfectly fine, thank you,” Dave says, “I might have a sensitivity to light but that doesn’t affect my ability to recognize a hot tamale when I see one.”

-

Karkat snorts and rolls his eyes, taking another bite of food. Dave is so fucking ridiculous. “If I’m a hot tamale what does that make you? A ghost pepper?”

-

Dave twirls some more pasta around on his fork, and then looks over at Karkat as he hovers the fork by his mouth.

He makes to crank up the accent just a touch for what he says next.

“Did I say hot tamale? I meant Carolina Reaper.”

Dave’s lips pull into a satisfied grin. “Hottest pepper in the world, baby.”

-

Dave’s smirking smugly like he knows he just won… whatever it is that they’re doing. Karkat’s mouth drops open.

“What? No it’s fucking not,” he refutes, but his hand is already reaching for his phone and a quick google search reveals that Dave is correct. Karkat slouches back, trying not to pout like a child.

“Fucking _fine_ ,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “You win this one. Still need to get your eyes checked though.”

This is possibly the weirdest compliment Karkat’s ever received, right next to Terezi’s ‘you smell like you’d taste like candy.’ Terezi is so fucking weird.

-

Dave’s smug grin grows even more triumphant as Karkat stubbornly checks Google, only to get thoroughly schooled.

“I’m from the South, you think I don’t know my spices?” Dave says with a laugh, “Just because John is fuckin’ milquetoast when it comes to a li’l bit of Cajun spice on a order of popcorn chicken doesn’t mean I am.”

Dave takes another bite of pasta and leans back on the couch while he chews. He swallows, and makes a defeated sigh.

“Look good, smell good, and cook good,” Dave says. He rolls his head over to look at Karkat. “You’re a goddamn triple threat. I’m surprised you don’t beat ‘em off with a broom.”

-

Karkat is going to explode. His heart thumps loudly in his ears as Dave compliments him in that _fucking voice_. He buries his face in his hands and groans. It’s a special kind of torment, having praise piled onto him by Dave Strider.

“‘M not cooking for you anymore,” he lies. He’s already planning breakfast for tomorrow; if he can wake up and figure out that fucking coffee maker in time he’ll even bring it to Dave’s room for him. (It’s too much, too obvious, but Karkat is already getting addicted to these nice things being said to him and if Dave likes his cooking Karkat is going to exploit that 100%).

-

“Awww, Big Kat, don’t be like that,” Dave says in a teasing, sing-song voice, grinning ear-to-ear.

It was way too much fun tormenting Karkat. He was super fucking cute when he got all petulant and fake-grouchy.

“Boy, you may look like a shit brickhouse on the outside, but you’re a humble, gentle little lamb on the inside,” Dave says as he twirls his fork, “Don’t worry, we’ll work at it. I’ll just bombard you with niceties until you can hear them without going catatonic.”

-

Karkat lifts his head up to give Dave his best glare. Unfortunately, Dave remains unfazed. 

“You will _not_ ,” he says. “I’m not a gentle little anything. I could crush your twink ass with my pinky finger.”

This does absolutely nothing to remove Dave’s beaming grin.

“I take back everything I said,” Karkat says huffily, grabbing his plate and shoving food in his mouth. “Never speak again, oh my god.”

-

Ohh, Dave bet Karkat could crush his ass.

Wait. Why was that sexy? Should that be sexy? Why does he always have to make things sexy? No, wait, he wasn’t the one making things sexy, it was Stupid Sexy Karkat making things sexy.

...He’s thinking the word ‘sexy’ too much.

Anyway, back to his torment.

“Nope, sorry my guy, no take-backsies,” Dave says, “As a matter of fact I am officially cranking up my Compliment Karkat Meter to the max. Your bara ass is about to be so fuckin’ flustered up in this bitch. I’m gonna obliterate that top energy right the fuck out of you with my words and leave you a shrivelled, blushing mess, crumpled on the floor.”

-

Karkat splutters, entirely undignified.

“You--I-- _bara_???”

Karkat isn’t sure which is worse; that Dave sounds entirely prepared to go through with this odd threat or that Karkat wants him to.

“What the fuck has your imaginary compliment meter been set at so far?” he demands, slightly dreading the answer. He’s already flustered and embarrassed as all hell. How could Dave make it _worse_?

-

Dave presses a finger to his chin, thinking on it.

“Well, I’d say it was at Playful Banter beforehand,” Dave says, “And now it’s cranked up to Make Karkat As Flustered As Possible.”

He pulls the finger away from his chin and pokes Karkat on the nose.

“Because it makes you look damn cute.”

-

Karkat’s always been pretty fucking shitty at controlling his expressions but he tries his best to do so now, hiding away _just_ how flustered he is by grabbing Dave’s finger and moving it away from his face.

“You’re terribly fucking mistaken,” he says. “I’m not _cute_.”

“And if _that’s_ the best you’ve got your meter is clearly fucking broken,” he goads, because he has no sense of self preservation. “You should file a complaint.”

-

“You’re right. Most of the time you’re _hot_ ,” Dave says, “But you’re cute when you’re pouty.”

Dave is gonna ride this surge of confidence as far as it’ll take him.

-

“I’m not _pouting_ , you overconfident dick-nugget,” Karkat says, crossing his arms. “And if I was it wouldn’t be cute, it would be pathetic and embarrassing.”

Is this an argument that is actually happening right now? Did Karkat step into some sort of alternate twilight zone universe? How did this even start again?

He looks down at his food and remembers he’s supposed to be eating. Dave is too damn distracting. He takes another bite. 

“Mmm. Entirely mediocre, just like me,” he says, lips quirking up.

-

Dave pouts, squinting his eyes a little. “If I didn’t know any better I’d swear you’re doing this on purpose because you’re fishin’ for compliments.”

-

Karkat grins, leaning over to poke at Dave’s lower lip. It’s a move he didn’t think out beforehand, because now he knows that Dave’s lips are just as soft as they look. He speaks before he can dwell on this too much.

“Now who’s pouting?” he asks. Despite the fluttering in his stomach he feels like he might be getting the upper hand, here.

-

Karkat reaches over and pokes Dave not on the nose, but on the lip.

Dave feels a little tremble crawl up his spine, but he pushes it the fuck down. He’s not letting Karkat fucking distract him. He was the one doing the flustering right now, damn it. This wasn’t some pissing contest, Dave was just trying to make Karkat feel a bit fucking better about himself!

“Fuck off, I was frowning, not pouting,” Dave retorts, knocking Karkat’s hand away. He puts very, very little force behind it. It’s more of a brushing of their wrists than anything.

“I was frowning at the notion you could think you’re anywhere close to mediocre,” Dave goes on. “I’m not sure how many times I need to say it in order for it to stick in that bullheaded skull of yours, but you are like...insanely attractive. Nice olive brown skin, that sexy hair style that’s like bedhead but make it Fashion, your fucking guns for arms, gravelly deep voice, big dark eyes...”

Dave trails off, and shovels a bite of pasta into his mouth to hide the fact he’s losing his bravado as the embarrassment sneaks back up on him.

-

Karkat’s smug smile falters as Dave calls him _insanely attractive_ and goes on to list things about him that he knows aren’t true. Karkat’s name and the word fashion should never be used in the same sentence. Despite knowing this, however, his heart still speeds up and for a long few seconds it’s hard to breathe. If Dave is trying to get him to fall to a flustered, blushing heap he’s pretty goddamn close.

Fuck. Dave sounded so goddamn genuine, and now he’s back to eating his food in silence, shoulders bunched up like he’s uncomfortable. He worries his lip as he watches Dave out of the corner of his eye.

“...Thanks, I guess,” he says. Then, “You _were_ pouting, you filthy liar. It was cute.”

-

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to use my own tactics against me, you fucker.” Dave says, trying to hide the fact he’s flustered over Karkat calling him cute.

“I don’t give a shit if you’ve got your own Compliment Dave meter, because guaranteed I’ll surpass it. Even if I gotta snap the lever off and scrawl on a bunch of new levels with a marker.”

-

“I’ll use whatever tactics I damn well please and you can’t do anything to stop me,” Karkat says. “Do your worst, fuckstick, I can out-compliment you any day of the week. My Compliment Dave meter is so fucking advanced it’s in an alien language.”

-

“Ohohoho, I see how it is. First it was a battle of insults and now we’re switching gears to compliments?” Dave says, feeling a crooked grin pull at his mouth. “Well you forgot about southern charm, motherfucker. I can out-compliment the shit out of you.”

-

Karkat did, in fact, forget about southern charm. He forgot about all things, apparently, because his fucking mouth works faster than his brain does.

This is also not a battle Karkat is sure he can win. His talents lay in creative insults, not compliments. But it can’t be too hard to switch gears, right?

“I think you’re overestimating just how charming you really are,” he says.

-

“I don’t need much to make you putty in my hands, sweetheart.” Dave says, waggling his eyebrows.

-

Oh Karkat knows immediately he is outclassed. _Sweetheart_ hits like a punch to the solar plexus, but Karkat does his best to scowl regardless.

“All I’m hearing so far is you talking yourself up,” he says, scoffing. “Do you need an example?”

What the fuck is he saying? This is a terrible fucking idea. But he can’t think of a way out while still saving face, so he turns towards Dave and says in his most serious voice, a blush already breaking out across his cheeks, “Dave, you have incredibly gorgeous eyes.”

-

Dave is taking a victorious bite of his food as he watches the look on Karkat’s face at the pet name, and is in the midst of slurping up a wad of noodles that hit him on the nose and chin when Karkat tells him he has gorgeous eyes.

Dave gulps down his noodles with a little more force than necessary, and wipes the sauce off his face on the back of his hand.

“Yeah? Thanks, bud.” Dave says, acting unphased. But his heart is definitely pounding.

Dave twists up another forkful of pasta, as if this back and forth is just like any other casual conversation, not affecting him in the slightest.

“Well, your eyes are so dark and deep I get lost in ‘em.”

He looks at Karkat and takes a bite, chewing as he hefts his eyebrows in a _that all you got_? expression.

-

Dave is such a _little shit_. Karkat wants to punch him in the mouth. With his own mouth.

“Thanks,” Karkat grits out, frustration and embarrassment coursing through him in equal measure. He takes a calming breath.

“You’re a very skilled musician,” he says. “I’m looking forward to listening to more of your songs.”

He might do that tonight, actually, after Dave goes to sleep and he’s left awake in a bed that isn’t his. If he survives this encounter, anyway.

-

Dave’s heart flutters. He pushes it down. Focus, you fool.

“Maybe I’ll sing for you sometime,” Dave says lightly. Just trying to add an extra whammy onto his score, with that one. Time for the real stuff.

“You have a really great laugh and I like hearing it so much that I am constantly trying to make you laugh so that I can.”

Yikes. Okay, that one treaded the line between ‘compliment’ and ‘confession’. But Dave sticks with it.

-

Karkat sucks in a tiny breath of air at the thought of Dave singing to him. Fuck, goddammit. He wants that so much it hurts.

He hates his laugh. It’s grating and obnoxious. He heard it recorded one time and didn’t laugh for fucking months afterwards, too damn embarrassed over it. Being a teenager was a fucking nightmare. It’s hard to imagine anyone _liking_ it, actively seeking it out.

“You’re really good at it,” Karkat admits. “Making me laugh. You’re fucking hilarious. I’ve laughed more while I’ve been here than I have in… too long, probably.”

Was that too much? Too real? God, he sounds like a pathetic joyless asshole. Which he is, but he doesn’t want to come off as one.

-

Dave finishes his last bite of pasta and sets his empty bowl on the table in front of him.

“That’s nice to hear,” Dave says, “Because it goes hand in hand with getting to see you smile. It’s just as good as your laugh. And you’ve got so many different kinds and they’re all great.”

Dave looks at Karkat and gives him a cheeky look. “Don’t get me wrong. Your grumpy expression has its own charms. And it makes the smiles more of a rarity. Like I should feel special for bein’ on the receiving end of ‘em. Like I won a prize.”

-

It takes real, physical effort for Karkat to hold back his reply of _if it’s as good as my laugh then it must be fucking disgusting,_ and he’s glad he does, because Dave’s voice slips a little bit more into his drawl and a shiver runs up Karkat’s spine.

“You have nice li--uh, a nice smile too.” 

He needs to get his mouth under control. Did he really almost tell Dave he has nice _lips_? Get it to-fucking-gether, Vantas.

“I like how excited you get when you talk about things you’re interested in,” Karkat says. “You talk with your hands a lot and it’s ad-orable.”

He stumbles over the last word and grits his teeth. Insults were so much easier than this.

-

Karkat stumbles over his words, and it’s cute as fucking shit. And also a little exhilarating, but also sort of terrifying, to have that kind of effect on Karkat.

Karkat thinks the way he talks with his hands was adorable? He’d always been told it was a bad habit.

“I like the way you talk about your friends,” Dave says, “You sound like you really love every single one of them and would do anything for them. And they’re all really lucky to have a friend as caring and loyal as you are. And I envy that about you. But I also think that you think your worth only comes from what you can do for your friends, and you’re worth a lot more than just that.”

Whoop, there’s another compliment gone awry. That one got really sentimental and sappy. But that would definitely earn him some points, even if it did embarrass the hell out of him.

-

Holy shit, is he really that transparent? His eyes widen as Dave calls him out in one fell swoop, christ. He knew he shouldn’t have blabbed about his friends so much. What the fuck is he supposed to say to that? His mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words come to him until he decides to move the fuck on.

“You’re really kind,” Karkat says, and believes it whole-heartedly. “And you’re a good person. And really fucking smart.”

-

“Smart enough to know that was three compliments in a row.” Dave retorts, “You want a lightning round? I can dig it.”

Dave twists in his seat to face Karkat more fully, and clears his throat.

“You’re thoughtful,” Dave says, “And caring to the point of being protective, and it’s really admirable. And determined.”

-

Having Dave face him while he says these things is even _worse_. He’s going to spontaneously combust. His brain feels like it’s melting in his skull.

“You--You’re so good with words it’s infuriating,” he says. “You’re a good storyteller. I think you’d fit in really well with my friends. I like that you have weird as shit hobbies and that you’re proud of them.”

All the things he _really_ wants to say-- _you smell good, you’re warm, you fit against me perfectly, I love that you can keep up with me I love that you’re so sweet you’re so fucking attractive_ \--sit heavy on his tongue, waiting, but he bites them back.

-

Dave laughs. “That was four that time! Alright, alright—“

He shuffles a bit in his seat, and then leans forward intently.

“You’re an amazing cook; you make dishes that might seem simple taste really fucking good because you add your own flair to it. I like that I can binge-watch movies with you and you don’t get mad that I talk the entire way through them. I like how patient you are wi—“

Dave falters. Then, he continues, a bit quieter, “...with me.”

He pauses for a moment, then pipes up. “Fuck, that was only three. Uhhh, your massages feel really fucking good and made me more relaxed than I’ve ever felt, ever.”

-

Dave is leaning closer to him, face determined, and Karkat’s breath catches in his throat. But as Dave hesitates then continues, his lips pull into a frown that he doesn’t have to fake. He could let it go; brush it off and keep the compliments flowing, or tease him about needing to relax more. It would be easier.

“Dave, the only time you’ve required me to be patient with you is when you ordered that terrible fucking subway sandwich,” he says. “And maybe if we were watching something I haven’t seen before it would be a little annoying, but I’ve been talking just as much as you have. Talking to you is more interesting anyway.”

-

Dave blinks rapidly at Karkat, not expecting that. After a moment, his mouth pulls into a little smile.

“...Does this mean I win?”

-

Karkat’s mouth falls open as he processes this.

“Oh _fuck_ you!” he yells, slumping so far down onto the couch he threatens becoming one with the cushions. “You tricked me.”

-

Dave barks out a laugh, leaning back on the armrest in his mirth as he shakes with laughter.

“Ha! Get fucked, I totally win,” Dave snickers, “Southern charm, baby, it works every time.”

Dave prods Karkat in the knee with his foot. “You gonna be a sore loser, big guy?”

-

Karkat peers up at Dave with a squinty glare, sinking lower.

“Yes.”

-

Dave continues pushing Karkat’s leg with his foot.

“Aw. Poor grouchy baby.”

-

Karkat wraps his arm around Dave’s leg and tugs, dragging him along the couch. Not enough to knock him over, but enough to show that he totally _could_.

“The grouchiest,” he agrees. A smile threatens to sneak free.

-

Ohh shit Karkat grabs Dave’s leg and just drags him like a ragdoll across the couch. Jesus, he really can manhandle Dave like nobody’s business, huh? That’s so fucking hot.

“Unhand me, you barbarian!” Dave cries, fake-indignant. “I’ll put my bare-ass foot right in your face, don’t think I won’t.”

-

“I’m not afraid of your fucking feet Dave,” he laughs. “I’ll show you barbaric.”

He tugs Dave further along the couch, an evil grin spreading across his face as he sits up and leans over, reaching out to dig his fingers into Dave’s sides.

\- There’s a brief instant where Dave’s heart leaps into his throat as Karkat drags him further down the couch and then leans down over Dave, because he thinks _oh my god this is it—_

_We’re doing this, man, we’re making it happen—_

_He’s actually going to kiss m—_

And then the moment passes as Karkat digs his fingers into Dave’s ribs and Dave lets out a fucking shriek.

“nnnnNNNOnNooNooNoNONONONONOhahahahaha—ST-STOPSTOPsTOP—kkkaaARKAT—hahhahahHAHAHAAAH—stooooopitstopitstopitstooopiiit—KarkatIsweartogod—hhahahahahhaaa”

-

Dave lets out an ear-bursting scream and instantly starts laughing and squirming, desperately trying to twist away. Unfortunately for him Karkat is much heavier and has use of both of his arms so pinning Dave to the couch is all too easy.

It’s only when he starts taking in large, gasping breaths of air between peals of laughter that Karkat lets up and realizes the position they’re in. Dave is flushed and breathless beneath him, shades askew and hair a mess, and Karkat’s face is only inches from his own.

“Ticklish?” he asks. It’s meant to sound smug and teasing, but it comes out soft, intimate, and Karkat tells himself to let go, to sit up, push himself away from Dave.

-

“Not a bit,” Dave pants, “I was—screaming in terror...hah...b-because you’re such a barbarian. I was—hah—scared for my life.”

-

“Right, of course,” Karkat nods. “So if I were to…” He lets his hand hover threateningly over Dave’s side, “...it wouldn’t tickle at all.”

-

Ohh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck ohhhhhhsweetfuck—

“Nope,” Dave says, voice going an octave higher than he intended, “Not one bit.”

-

And what was that if not an open invitation? Karkat grins wide as he digs his fingers in once again, this time better prepared for Dave’s yelp and struggle. This was definitely an acceptable consolation prize to losing their little competition earlier; made even better by the fact that Karkat’s sides weren't ticklish in the least. 

“Still scared of my barbaric ways, I see,” he says when he relents. He tries to remember one of their earlier conversations. “What did you call yourself before? A knight? I thought knights were supposed to be brave.”

-

Dave squirms and desperately tries to hold in hysteric giggles and other very uncool noises as Karkat digs his fingers into his sides. This was so unfair. This was cruel and unusual punishment. Dave didn’t even have both arms to fight him off.

Not that he really _wanted_ to fight him off.

“—nnhahaha—hmmmhhahaha—P-lenty brave—j-j-just—hahaha—never m-met one lik—ehehehh—like you before,” Dave wiggles out from under Karkat’s hands, scooting back toward the armrest, “an-and I’m w-ound—hahahah—wounded. Low blow, dude.”

-

Karkat sits back, the perfect picture of smug victory.

“You may have a point. Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ll let you escape. For now.”

God, he feels like _giggling_. Dave really has some kind of effect on him, doesn’t he? 

-

Karkat shows mercy, sitting up and letting Dave squirm away. He presses his back up against the armrest, still wheezing for air.

“That was fuckin’ dirty,” Dave pants, “I am now on a mission to find where you’re fucking ticklish so I can get my vengeance.”

-

“Good fucking luck,” Karkat laughs. “I’m immune to tickles. It’s the barbarian blood. Seems like knights aren’t so lucky.”

Karkat is, in fact, extremely ticklish around his neck. But Dave doesn’t need to know that. As far as Dave is concerned, Karkat can’t feel jack shit.

“I know your weakness now,” he says, sprawling back onto the armrest. “It’s good to have a trump card.” 

-

“Bullshit. Nobody is immune.” Dave says, his breathing going back to normal, “Everyone has at least one spot, even if it’s small.”

Dave pushes away from the armrest, and crawls on his knees across the couch. “Alright, my vengeance is swift. I’m finding where the great barbarian’s Achilles’ Heel is right now.” Dave leans forward and brings up his arm, “And you’re not allowed to fight back. I’m crippled. No contact sports, remember?”

Dave lets his hand hover in the air for a moment, deciding where to strike first. Then he remembered how Karkat tensed up when Dave had his lips basically brushing up against his neck.

“How about we try a snake bite first?” Dave says with a grin, and then lunges his arm down at the side of Karkat’s neck and digs in.

-

Dave crawls towards him and ohhhh fuck that’s hot. Every time Karkat gets the upperhand Dave has to go and be sweet or kind or fucking _attractive_ and usurp him. He swallows thickly.

“No fighting back?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. Is he really going to let Dave run his hand all over him? There’s no way this isn’t going to end up with an embarrassing erection. “Okay. But only because you’re injured.”

Then Dave immediately lunges for his neck and Karkat lets out the most unattractive noise known to man, head snapping to the side to squish Dave’s hand between his head and his shoulder. He twists and practically teleports across the room, one hand held up defensively at his neck while he slouches down, pouting.

“I fucking hate you; you’re such an asshole.”

-

Dave lets out a whoop, pumping his fist into the air.

“Fuck yeah!” he cheers.

He lets out a laugh, getting up off the couch. “Alright, truce. Since we’re even and all.”

The movie ended a while ago, so Dave changes it out to Part 2 of The Deathly Hallows. He grabs their empty bowls and cups, stacking them all together and taking them into the kitchen, dumping it all in the sink. He comes back into the living room, using his practiced stealth to creep up behind the couch.

He quickly reaches over the couch and runs his fingers up Karkat’s neck. “Oops, my hand slipped.”

-

Karkat sits back on the couch as Dave gathers their things up and takes them to the kitchen, still a bit put out that his weak spot had been discovered so quickly. He doesn’t hear Dave return, only feels the light press of fingers run across his neck and he gasps and tenses, the feeling instantly going to his dick. Fucking erogenous zones.

“What happened to your truce, traitor?” he demands when he gets his voice back. He’s lucky he didn’t moan. That would be fun to explain. “It’s been like five minutes max.”

-

Dave chuckles, coming around the couch and—pulling the ultimate move in his game of Fluster Karkat—plopping himself down in Karkat’s lap.

“Okay, okay, now we’re in a truce,” Dave says. He holds up two fingers pressed together. “Knight’s honour.”

-

Karkat freezes as Dave’s weight settles into his lap. There’s a long moment of panic where he doesn’t know what to do. Does he push Dave off? Pull him closer? Sit there like an awkward toolbag until the gods take mercy and strike him down?

The last one seems pretty fucking tempting, but his hands are moving before he can consciously decide, wrapping lightly around Dave’s waist.

“There’s an entire fucking couch available, Strider,” he points out, face feeling like a neon signpost. “And you choose to sit here.”

-

“Yep,” Dave says, shuffling his butt around a little, as if to emphasize his point. “...S’way comfier than the couch.”

-

Dave fucking wiggles his ass and Karkat is in danger. He grips Dave’s waist harder, keeping him still. He takes a long breath in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“You have described me multiple times as being ‘built like a brick shithouse’,” Karkat says, disbelief evident in his voice. “And yet I’m more comfortable than the couch?”

Dave starts to move around some more and Karkat cannot take that. He encircles Dave’s waist with his arms and holds him tightly. “If you’re going to sit here, you’re going to be _still_.”

-

Ooh. Karkat bossing him around while telling Dave to be still was definitely something Dave could get used to.

“I’ll behave,” he promises, “just gimme a second.”

He reaches over to grab the bunched up blanket and pulls it over the both of them. Then Dave leans against Karkat and sighs.

“There we are. Snug as a big. Two peas in a pod, we are.”

And with that, Dave goes still.

-

Karkat doesn’t believe for a second that Dave will ‘behave,’ but he’s proven wrong after he tugs the blanket over them and relaxes back against Karkat and a soft sigh, apparently content watching the movie for now. Karkat’s suspicious, but time ticks on and he slowly accepts that this is the way of things now; Dave sitting fully in his lap, Karkat’s arms wrapped around him as they fucking snuggle and watch Harry Potter.

Can Dave feel his heart pounding out of his chest? It wouldn’t surprise him.

He hooks his chin over Dave’s shoulder, taking the opportunity to enjoy just how fucking amazing he smells, as Ollivander is a creepy bastard on screen. His arms loosen, tension leaving him the longer Dave remains still. 

He feels… content. Almost sleepy, despite the nap he’d managed to get earlier. If only his doctor knew that the cure to insomnia was Dave fucking Strider. But Karkat’s selfish; he’ll keep the knowledge to himself.

-

The two of them watch the movie in silence, nestled under the blankets, Dave’s head resting on Karkat’s shoulder and Karkat’s arms loosely wrapped around Dave.

Maybe it was a little strange, but Dave didn’t much care. He was comfy as shit, a hell of a lot more comfortable than he’d be just sitting on the couch like normal. This whole platonic cuddling thing was a strange new concept to Dave, but if this was going to be a part of his and Karkat’s dynamic, that was alright by him.

He feels so warm and cozy and safe, in Karkat’s lap all wrapped up in his arms and the blanket. Dave feels sleepy, all full of carbs from the pasta, and is ready to knock back out again. So he slips off his shades, folds the arms and tucks one of them into Karkat’s shirt collar. Then he leans his head back a bit more against his shoulder and closes his eyes.

Within a few minutes, he drifts off to sleep.

-

It takes awhile for Karkat to realize Dave’s fallen asleep again, but when he does his heart melts. When Dave hung his sunglasses from Karkat’s collar he was surprised, but touched; he’s not sure he understands the value behind the item, but Dave clearly cares about them. Maybe it’s stupid, feeling soft about being entrusted with something so mundane. Maybe he’s reading too much into it, and if Dave could read his thoughts he’d be viciously teased.

Dave’s tiny, gentle snores alert him to the fact that he’s dozed off. Karkat should probably wake him up, urge him into his own bed. He can’t actually be comfortable here, curled up in Karkat’s lap. He’ll wake up with a crick in his neck that Karkat will have to massage out. It’ll be annoying. Yeah.

Karkat sighs. Who the fuck is he kidding? He’ll let Dave use him as a pillow for as long as he wants and he’ll be thankful for it because he’s pathetic. 

Slowly, gently, so as to not disturb Dave, Karkat tugs his shirt sleeve up past his elbow, peering at it hopefully. But there’s nothing there, and Karkat’s arms return to Dave’s waist while disappointment fills him from head to toe. He’s being stupid. Just because he’s never immediately gotten on so well with anyone before doesn’t mean that he and Dave are meant to be together.

It takes almost until the end of the movie, with Karkat keeping as still as possible save for the times his fingers rub gentle circles into Dave absentmindedly, but Karkat finally manages to fall asleep.

-

Dave wakes up sometime later and is a little surprised to find he’s still in Karkat’s lap. Dave cracks open one eye and peeks over at the time on the DVD player. Oh Jesus, that’s late. Or, rather, early. What time was it when Dave first passed out? How fucking long has he been asleep?

Dave looks up to apologize to Karkat, who must have lost all feeling in his legs by this point. But when Dave looks over, Karkat is asleep. Dave freezes, and then begins to move very carefully. Karkat seemed to be as light a sleeper as Dave was, so the slightest move could wake him.

It was nice to see Karkat getting some more well-earned rest. Dave wonders how long he’d been out for. If he only managed to go under recently, Dave doesn’t want to get up and disturb his rest.

Dave keeps his head still, continuing to look up at Karkat. With him sleeping like this, Dave is able to really get a look at him. His brow isn’t furrowed at all in his sleep, his mouth not pulled into a thin line but rather parted slightly as he slowly breathes in and out. It’s a soft, open expression.

Karkat’s head rolls towards Dave and some of his curls fall into his eyes. It makes Karkat’s nose twitch. Dave lets out an amused little scoff, disgustingly affectionate.

He reaches up and, with a featherlight touch, brushes the hair out of Karkat’s eyes.

-

Karkat’s lost in a hazy, dreamless doze, no nightmares to be found. He’s warm and safe, a nice weight pressing down on him, keeping him tethered to the world. He’s so relaxed, so at peace, and he wants to stay like this forever.

The weight in his lap moving doesn’t immediately wake him. It draws his awareness closer to the surface, but he clings desperately to the calm safety of sleep that often eludes him. He thinks he feels something moving his hair; it’s nice. He’s surrounded by a wonderful smell that makes him feel hazy around the edges. He breathes it in deeply and lets out a contented sigh, nuzzling his face into something soft.

Slowly, slowly, he can feel his consciousness breaking the surface. He doesn’t want to wake up, though, so he keeps his eyes closed, his breathing even, and teeters on the edge of wakefulness, hoping he can be pulled back under.

-

Dave doesn’t have time to draw his hand away before Karkat moves, and his heart jumps into his throat and he guiltily thinks _shit, I woke him up—_

But then Karkat just nuzzles his head against Dave’s hand, sighs long and soft and sleepily, and then doesn’t rouse any further.

Dave stays still for a moment. It seems Karkat likes having his hair touched. It made the relaxed expression on his sleeping face go even more slack, for a contented sigh to come out of him.

Karkat’s spent hours running his fingers through Dave’s hair by this point. So Dave figures he ought to return the favour. He reaches out and carefully moves his curls away from his face, following the same path again and again with just the tips of his fingers. He holds his breath.

Dave moves his hand over to run through the curls over Karkat’s ear, all the while carefully watching Karkat’s face for any shift in his expression, any sign that he was about to wake up and Dave should pull away.

-

A gentle, tingling sensation begins spreading along his scalp as something gentle shifts his hair around. It feels amazing; no one ever plays with Karkat’s hair, too intent on having his own fingers work out their pain. It’s both stimulating and relaxing at once, and Karkat moves his head, pressing into the sensation, searching it out.

He thinks maybe waking up might be worth it, if this is what waits for him. But he wants to enjoy this odd sensation while he can. His limbs feel heavy and his brain fuzzy and slow. 

-

Karkat continues to press into the touch, like even sleep he’s asking for more. And how can Dave deny that?

He runs his fingers through Karkat’s curls a couple more times, relishing in how soft and fluffy his hair is. Then Dave tries to replicate what Karkat did for him, massaging around the shell of his ear. Pinching and rolling at the side of his ear, from the top all the way down to his earlobe, which he gives the same little tug that Karkat did on him. And still Karkat doesn’t stir.

Dave thinks about kissing him for the millionth time. He could do it now. And Karkat would never have to know.

The thought makes an ugly, gnarled pit open up in Dave’s gut. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t kiss Karkat while he was asleep, that would be so wrong.

Dave sighs a little, continuing to go back and forth between running his fingers through Karkat’s hair and massaging around his ear. Keeping his face close enough to feel Karkat’s breath fan across his face and tickle at his eyelids as it made his lashes flutter. But he doesn’t kiss him. He can’t.

So he’ll enjoy what he can have, for as long as he can have it.

-

The lovely, wonderful sensation continues, then moves to his ear and _oh_ , that feels good. So that’s what that feels like; Karkat’s always wondered. He’s waking up more and more; he wants to lean further into the touch but he’s worried it will stop.

When he’s conscious enough to wonder _who’s doing this_? he sighs and forces his eyes open the tiniest bit. He’s met with the image of Dave--of course it’s Dave--so goddamn close to his face. Karkat hums low in his throat, letting his eyes slip back shut, and presses his head against Dave’s nimble fingers.

“Keep going,” he says muzzily. “Feels good.”

-

Karkat’s eyes open a tiny bit and because Dave has been staring at his face this entire time he notices right away. His hand freezes instantly, but he can’t seem to pull it away.

Karkat’s eyes slip back closed as he lets out a sleepy little hum, and presses his head against Dave’s hand, mumbling at Dave to keep going.

For a second, Dave still can’t seem to move. He just stares at Karkat, his mouth hanging open a little, his fingers still buried in Karkat’s hair.

Oh, fuck.

Dave might be in love.

-

Dave’s hand doesn’t move, which is the exact opposite of what Karkat wants. He shakes his head back and forth, simulating the sensation himself. It’s not the same, but it’s better than nothing. He’s lucky Dave was nice enough to play with his hair for as long as he did, he supposes. Asking for more is just being greedy. 

He sighs, resigning himself to the waking world, and opens his eyes a little further. 

“What’s up?” he grumbles, ducking his face into Dave’s shoulder so he can yawn. “You okay?”

-

Karkat rubs his head back and forth on Dave’s hand when Dave still doesn’t move, which is the cutest fucking thing in the world. It’s like a cat demanding to be pet.

Before Dave can crack himself out of the paralyzingly chrysalis he’s found himself in, Karkat opens his eyes fully and asks Dave if everything’s alright. Dave instantly feels guilty again. Now Karkat was awake again because he had to go and have a bout of gay panic. Maybe he could still save this. It was still early, after all. Karkat could get some more sleep.

“Yeah, man, everything’s cool,” Dave says, keeping his voice soft, “I’ll keep going if you want me to. Go back to sleep.”

Then he goes back to running his hand through Karkat’s hair. He tries his best to mimic the same movements he thinks that Karkat did on him, remembering what felt really good (all of it, but some of it was extra good) and doing his best to replicate it. Dave wonders if any of Karkat’s other friends ever returned the favour like this. If Karkat would give them scalp massages and they would do it for him, too. Or did they just take advantage of Karkat’s kindness and only take instead of give back?

As much as Dave didn’t want to think about Karkat’s friends using him like that, he also kind of hopes that he can be the first to do something like this for Karkat. That he can be special in some aspect of Karkat’s life, if he can’t be his soulmate. He doesn’t just want to be The Guy Karkat Hit With A Car. He doesn’t want to be acquaintances. Or even just friends.

He wants to be important to Karkat. And if he can’t be his soulmate, then he had to find some other way to have that.

Dave stares at Karkat’s lips and strokes his fingers through Karkat’s hair, and tries not to think about pulling Karkat in for a kiss.

-

Dave returns to playing with his hair and his eyes flutter shut despite himself. Dave’s nails drag lightly across his scalp and he tries not to shiver. If this is what it feels like no wonder all his friends harass him for massages whenever they see each other.

He gives Dave a grateful little squeeze. He knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep now that he’s woken up, especially considering the amount of sleep he’s been granted recently. But he doesn’t want to move, or have Dave stop the gentle motions, or lose the calming pressure of Dave in his arms.

“‘S’nice,” he murmurs after awhile--a few minutes? Hours? Days? Karkat can’t say. Time feels suspended in the air around them. “Y’ve got nice hands.”

Dave has long, thin, delicate looking fingers. There are scars criss crossing over his skin there just like everywhere else. Karkat wants to kiss them; press his lips to Dave’s fingertips, to every mark and callous. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do with himself when this is all over, when he’s no longer in Dave’s lighthearted company all the time. 

The thought is depressing as fuck.

“What time is it?” Karkat sighs, lifting his head up and blinking sleep out of his eyes. Thinking is still difficult, like wading through a thick, opaque fog. “I was gonna make you breakfast.”

-

Oh god, SleepyKat is the best thing ever. Dave is going to die from the cuteness.

And then Karkat is lifting his head up and blinking blearily at Dave, and Dave feels his face burn from a mixture of several things at once. How close Karkat’s face is to Dave’s—which makes Dave realize he probably has morning breath like crazy right now. That’s embarrassing.

In this hazy, quiet moment, it’s so warm and domestic that Dave could almost envision them as lovers waking up on the weekend together, murmuring whisper-soft good mornings and talking about what to do with the day. Then Karkat says he’ll make Dave breakfast, which makes Dave’s heart squeeze tightly in fondness.

“Y-...you don’t have to,” Dave says quietly, “I could just pour myself a bowl of Cheerios or whatever. I can show you again how the percolator works?”

-

Like hell Karkat is gonna let Dave eat _cheerios_. He leans forward, giving Dave a light bonk against his forehead with his own, still affectionate with sleep. He’s being too revealing but he can’t bring himself to care. Nepeta always teases him when he lets her fall asleep leaning against his shoulder. _You look so scary but you’re just a big teddy bear, karkitty!_

He wonders what she’d say if she saw Dave sitting in his lap.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he says. “Cheerios are garbage. You make coffee and I’ll make breakfast. Do you like french toast?”

Karkat generally doesn’t eat breakfast, choosing to let caffeine bolster him until lunch, but he has a feeling Dave would take issue with being the only one eating. 

-

Karkat leans forward and Dave thinks for yet another panicked split second _ishegoingtokissme_ and then Karkat just bumps him on the forehead with his own. And somehow that still makes Dave’s heart race. He even bunts like a cat! This was just too fucking much. Next this fucker was going to start purring and then Dave would really be done for.

He gives Karkat an affronted pout however when he bashes on Cheerios. “Hey, regular-ass Cheerios may not be anythin’ to write home about, but I’ve got apple-cinnamon Cheerios, motherfucker.” He says all of this while still running his fingers through Karkat’s hair, getting in what he can before they have to get up.

“I’ll handle the coffee, sure. I saw you grabbed yourself a bag of dark roast when you got groceries the other day. Just wait until you try that shit in a percolator, my dude. You’ll never go back to drip coffee ever again.”

He’s definitely stalling with all this rambling, but whatever.

“Drip coffee only runs the water through once, but with a percolator, the boiling water goes up through this tube and into the basket holding the coffee grounds, and then it runs back down into the pot, so it’s basically double-brewing that shit, which makes the coffee a lot bolder and richer. It’s gonna knock you on your ass. Or make you go bouncing off the walls in this case ‘cause, y’know, caffeine.”

Man, Karkat’s hair is so soft.

“Also, what’s French toast? Is that like using a baguette instead of Wonderbread or something?”

-

Karkat is _way_ too tired still to follow all the words, especially with Dave’s talented hands traversing his wild curls. He probably looks like a mess right now. The longer Dave continues to talk the more Karkat’s eyes droop, until they’re barely open at all. But his last question has Karkat blinking his eyes back open in surprise.

“You’ve never had french toast?” he asks. He’s not sure if Dave is fucking with him but he explains, “It’s just like… bread dipped in egg and then fried.”

He sighs heavily, giving Dave one final squeeze before unwinding his arms from Dave’s slender waist.

“I’ll make some and you can try it. If you don’t like it I’ll make you pancakes or something,” he says. This is so much talking for just having woken up. Hopefully Dave won’t mind him slipping back into monosyllables until he gets some coffee in him.

-

Egg-dipped bread? So it was like eating toast and eggs at the same time? And instead of cooking the bread in a toaster you fried it in a pan? Huh.

“That sounds weird as fuck but I’m sure I’ll like it since you’re the one making it,” Dave says.

He can tell Karkat is severely struggling with forming complete sentences, going from Cute SleepyKat into Grumpy-Because-His-Body-Realized-It-Has-Not-Had-Coffee-Yet SleepyKat. Time for Dave to hurry the hell up and get some coffee percolated.

He reluctantly pushes himself out of Karkat’s lap and heads over to the kitchen, grabbing the bag of dark roast out of the semi-unpacked groceries still on the counter from the night before. He sets up the percolator and sets it on the stove to start boiling as Karkat stumbles into the kitchen to start making breakfast.

-

Dave gets off of his lap, the blanket falling to the floor, and Karkat allows himself a second to mourn before he pushes up and stretches. Sleeping sitting up is not fantastic and his back protests.

He walks into the kitchen, cracks his neck, and starts pulling out ingredients. French toast is probably one of the first things he ever learned to make so it doesn’t require much brainpower.

He mixes eggs into a bowl, dips a piece of bread into it, and puts it in a frying pan on the stove. He also gets another pan out to fry up some bacon, too, since there’s still some left. The dishes are starting to pile up since Karkat didn’t do them yesterday, ugh. Dishes are the worst.

He makes eight slices, because Dave is skinny as fuck and could probably use it and Karkat can eat a restaurant out of business. He also cooks up the rest of the egg mixture when he’s done, sprinkling in some spices so they aren’t bland as shit.

Somewhere in there Dave presses a coffee cup into his hands and he takes a sip that makes his eyes widen and a moan slips out from his throat.

“Holy fuck,” he says, taking another sip.

-

Dave wants to get up and make Karkat coffee every single morning for the rest of his fucking life.

He wants to let Karkat sleep in, nestled under the covers. Dave would always be the first to wake up because he’d always been an early-riser, but he would stay in bed and run his fingers through Karkat’s hair until Karkat finally stirred. Then Karkat would bring out his big arm and pull Dave in close and kiss him and neither of them would give a single fuck about the other’s morning breath. And then, very reluctantly, Dave would pull himself out of the bed and go make coffee. Karkat would come out a few minutes later, barely able to keep his eyes open, yawning loudly. And he’d come up behind Dave and wrap his arms around his shoulders, locking him in place while he pressed lazy, sloppy kisses up Dave’s jaw, cheek, temple, into his hair...and then they—

Holy fuck he really went off there.

“See? What’d I tell you? Percolators, man.” Dave says.

He looks over at the plate Karkat has put together, and his mouth starts to water. Eggs, bacon, and french toast all piled high on the plate. Holy fuck.

“That looks so fuckin’ good,” Dave says as he gets them out some forks, “I have got to see what is up with this french toast right now.”

Dave slices off a corner of the toast and pops it into his mouth. His eyes go wide and he whirls his head over to look at Karkat, the fork still pressed between his lips.

“Holy fuck,” Dave gasps, echoing Karkat. “That’s even better than a pancake! Oh fuck, this would be good with syrup. Or jam. Or both—ohh, please tell me we have some—“

Dave pops the fridge open and searches around, and grins when he finds a bottle of maple syrup and a jar of strawberry jam.

“Hell yes,” Dave says excitedly, taking out the bottle of syrup, then the jam, since he can’t carry them both.

Dave cracks open the lid on the maple syrup and drizzles it onto the toast.

Then he pulls a knife out of the drawer and then looks at Karkat. “Can you pop open that jam for me, Big Kat?”

-

Karkat watches with lazy amusement as Dave makes a big fucking deal over his basic french toast. He didn’t even put cinnamon or anything on it. But watching Dave eagerly zoom around the kitchen fills him with a novel happiness.

Karkat puts his cup down, easily pops the lid off of the jar and hands it back with only a, “Are you really going to keep calling me that?”

He’s not even annoyed at it, and that surprises him. If anyone else called him fucking _Big Kat_ he’d snarl and bitch until they got so fed up they’d never do it again. But he likes the way it sounds in Dave’s slow voice and the way it makes him feel _special_. 

They go back into the living room to eat. Karkat doesn’t bother with the jam but pours a tsunami’s worth of syrup onto his french toast. He takes a bite and yeah, that sure is french toast, alright. He doesn’t know how Dave managed to avoid such a simple food his whole life, but he’s glad he’s the one who got to introduce him to it.

Kankri’s a much better cook than he is, the jackass. Karkat vows to never let Dave try anything Kankri makes, ever. Not that there’s a huge likelihood of that, but. Just in case. No Kankri food for Dave. Karkat’s going to hoard his precious compliments and awe and keep it all for himself.

-

They take their plates and mugs of coffee back into the living room and sit down.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop,” Dave says, about the nickname. “But it didn’t seem to bother you, so I just kept doin’ it.”

He takes another bite of his French toast. He’s not even sure why he calls Karkat so many pet names. He never calls anyone by little nicknames like that, but with Karkat it just slips out. If Karkat doesn’t like it, though, then Dave can stop.

Just because they’d gotten their platonic cuddle on doesn’t mean they had to start calling each other pet names all the time like they were a couple or something. It would make sense if it weirded Karkat out, how forward Dave was being.

-

Karkat immediately shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.”

He gives Dave a little smile over the rim of his coffee cup. “Just don’t say it in front of my friends; they’re all giant assholes and they’ll never stop calling me it.”

They might, if Karkat got mad enough. But they wouldn’t let him live down letting _Dave_ call him that. It would be a huge flashing indicator of his fucking crush and Karkat would rather die. 

“Should I give you a nickname?” he wonders aloud. “Does douchebag count as a nickname?”

-

Dave tries to hide the little smile that comes to his face when Karkat tells him he can still call him by his nicknames behind his mug, taking a quick sip. He makes the sip even longer when Karkat mentions Dave meeting his friends once again, because it makes him smile even more. 

“I’ll try to behave,” Dave says, as he pulls away his mug. 

A nickname huh? The only thing that comes close to being a ‘nickname’ was when his Bro called him ‘little man’ or ‘kid’. Back when Dave was really little, he had liked hearing his Bro call him that. But, it started to feel more and more demeaning instead of endearing the older he got. 

“If you come up with something, I guess.” Dave says with a noncommittal shrug. “Mine sort of just...fell out. Didn’t even really think about ‘em. So you can call me whatever you want.”

-

“Whatever I want, huh?” Karkat says, smiling. “That’s a lot of power you just gave me. I’ll be sure to abuse it.”

He wonders what kind of nickname he should give Dave. The ones that immediately jump to mind--babe, baby, sweetheart, love--are much less… platonic than _Big Kat_. It’s something to think about when he has more brain power, however, and he focuses on his coffee while he slowly makes his way through breakfast.

His attention is on the way Dave eats with quick efficiency. It’s a bit odd, but Karkat is glad he’s enjoying it.

-

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with,” Dave says as he places his empty plate on the table, and grabs his coffee mug.

He scoots over a tad closer to Karkat and leans back on the couch, bringing his knees up as he takes a sip.

Dave is feeling pretty good today, all things considered. He didn’t wake up with a headache, so far he hasn’t had a dizzy spell, and his arm isn’t aching. Good thing he’s always been a pretty quick healer. It certainly came in handy, back in the day.

Dave brings his mug away from his lip, and runs his thumb up and down the handle of the mug. If he heals quickly, that would mean that Karkat wouldn’t need to take care of him anymore. Then Karkat wouldn’t have to stay here.

Karkat and Dave have been getting on like a damn house on fire, a fire nobody had enough firemen to put out it seemed. Karkat mentions Dave meeting his friends, and Dave would love to see how Karkat and John interact. It would probably be hilarious.

What if John was Karkat’s soulmate?

John also hadn’t met his yet. What if Dave introduced them, and then a few days later their first words showed up on each other’s arms and they told Dave and then Karkat moved in with John and John kicked Dave out and then Dave would be homeless and heartbroken and alone—

Fuck. He’s overthinking this too much. Point of the matter being, he is just really enjoying having Karkat around. He thought this week was going to just be a constant guilt trip where Karkat begrudgingly took care of Dave and Dave did his best to stay out of his hair and not bother him for too much. And instead, they’ve wound up having a really fun couple of days together.

And Dave never wants them to stop.

He knew he was being overdramatic. He had Karkat’s phone number, so it wasn’t like they could never talk after this week was over. And Karkat wanted Dave to have a game night with his friends. Karkat said they got together around the start of the month, so that was something, at least.

Even though Dave would also like to hang out with Karkat just one on one, not always with each other’s friends.

Karkat was the one who offered Dave the invite to his game nights. So maybe the ball was in Dave’s court to initiate anything else. Maybe he could ask Karkat out to a movie, or they could get some food, go check out some thrift stores—that’s where they keep all the fun shit—

Oh, boy. That was sounding a lot like a date, and not just two bros hanging out.

Maybe Dave could show Karkat the skatepark? Oh man, what if he tried to teach Karkat how to ride a board? Dave can’t exactly imagine Karkat riding a skateboard. But there was an outdoor gym near the park. Maybe Karkat could pump some iron while Dave practiced on the ramps? That way they were feet apart from each other and doing very...dude...things.

That was safe. Very not-a-date. That could work.

Dave takes another sip of coffee. He can’t believe he finished his food first, for once. As a matter of fact, every time he and Karkat ate together he shovelled his food down. Normally he took his time, rationed it out, made the meal last. Always the last to clear a plate because he used to not know when the next meal would come.

But with Karkat, Dave does know. It’s comfortable. It’s easy.

It’s like that with everything, with Karkat.

Well, almost everything.

-

Dave’s being awfully quiet over there, but he doesn’t seem too tense; just lost in his thoughts. Karkat scoots a bit closer to him and lets his head fall onto Dave’s shoulder (the one that isn’t holding up a cast). If Dave can plop his ass into Karkat’s lap without a second thought, Karkat can put his head on Dave’s shoulder, right? That isn’t too weird.

“Still hungry?” He asks. “You can have the rest of mine if you want. I’m not big on breakfast.”

He’s only about halfway done and as much as he hates wasting food his stomach is starting to get pretty fucking upset with him. If Dave doesn’t want it he’ll finish it off later, when he’s more awake.

He takes another sip of his delicious coffee. He wonders if Dave would agree to make the coffee while Karkat makes breakfast every day; he likes the domesticity of it. It makes it feel like this is something that can last. 

“I can’t believe I’ve been sleeping so much,” he admits. “I never get this much sleep.”

For a normal person it probably isn’t even considered a lot of sleep, but for Karkat he feels better rested than he has in… years, possibly. Fuck, when was the last time he slept without a nightmare? He can’t remember, but having Dave in his arms chased that shit away like he was a living dreamcatcher.

-

Karkat puts his head on Dave’s shoulder and holy shit that is a fucking first. Dave has to force himself not to tense up as Karkat’s warm cheek presses into his shoulder. It was cool, this was chill, they were all good. Nothing weird about this whatsoever.

Dave did sleep in Karkat’s lap, after all. So this was fine.

“Sure, hand ‘er over,” Dave says, taking Karkat’s plate, “Ain’t no wasting food in this house. Maybe if you didn’t soak your pancakes in so much fucking syrup and turn your plate into a sloppy mess you’d actually be able to stomach it. How can you drink your coffee black and then fuck up your French toast with this much syrup?”

Dave shovels the food into his mouth anyway, excessive syrup or not. He smiles warmly when Karkat says he’s actually been able to get a lot of sleep here. Dave had been worried about that.

“I’m glad,” Dave says when he chews through another forkful. “When did you get diagnosed with insomnia, anyway? Have you had it for a long time?”

-

“It’s not really french toast unless it’s drenched in syrup,” Karkat shrugs. The action makes his cheek rub into Dave’s shoulder and he closes his eyes. He’d nuzzle into him like a fucking cat if that wasn’t embarassing as hell.

He sighs, thinking back.

“I didn’t get diagnosed until I was about fifteen,” he says. “But I’ve always had trouble sleeping. Falling asleep, staying asleep, nightmares; the whole bullshit party mix. I’ve tried a few different pills and melatonin and stuff but it either doesn’t work or works too well.”

He remembers being trapped in a fucking nightmare because his pills wouldn’t let him wake up, a few times. And when he finally _did_ wake up he was sweating and shaking and couldn’t keep his eyes open despite the anxiety and adrenaline flowing through him. He shivers.

“So now I just deal with it as well as I can by myself.” 

It’s not a huge deal; he can get a few hours of sleep per night, usually, and his body will eventually crash after a few weeks of this, allowing him to get like eighteen hours of amazing, restful sleep. And then the cycle begins anew.

-

Dave frowns a little as Karkat explains his condition. “Shit, man. That really sucks. I know you said you’ve tried a couple of things but maybe you ought to try out a few more, see what works best for you. It’s gotta be better than just dealing with it all on your own.”

Dave quickly finishes off Karkat’s food since there was only half of it left. Karkat lifts his head so Dave can set the plate down and when Dave leans back, he wraps his arm around Karkat’s shoulders (and he’s glad his limbs are long because Karkat is broad) and pulls him back down to his shoulder.

He starts running his fingers through the hair on the back of Karkat’s head.

“You’re always giving everyone else head massages and shit, but you sound like you need it the most,” Dave says, “Nothin’ put me to sleep faster than your head massages, so someone ought to return the favour for you.”

_Maybe I can be your medicine._

_Maybe that’s how I can be special to you_.

“What kind of stuff do you get nightmares about? You don’t have to tell me if that shit is too heavy, but...maybe it might help?”

-

Oh _god_ , if Karkat wasn’t already halfway in love he would be now. Dave guides his head back to his shoulder and starts playing with his hair again, leaving a trail of delightful tingles where his fingers drift to. Fuck, he’s incredibly jealous of his friends. Why did he never insist that they return the favor? This is the most relaxing thing Karkat’s ever experienced.

Even with the coffee in his system, he feels like sleep might be worth attempting again if it means Dave keeps doing this.

“Nepeta tried once,” he says, recalling the clumsy attempt suddenly. “Her nails kept getting caught in my rat’s nest of an excuse for hair. Not fun for either party.”

Dave doesn’t seem to have the same problem, interestingly enough. There’s no painful tugging as his fingers get tangled in Karkat’s curls, no cursing as he tries to get them free. Maybe because he has shorter nails? Or maybe because he’s going slower. 

“I have a lot of nightmares about hospitals,” Karkat sighs. “Fucking hate hospitals. Otherwise it’s just about being trapped or chased. I don’t know; stupid shit.”

He lets his weight sink further into Dave. “Keep this up and I won’t need medicine.”

-

Hospitals?

Karkat hated hospitals, and yet he waited in one for hours for Dave, who at that point was still just a stranger to him?

Dave remembers Karkat’s first morning staying over, after the accident. How tired he’d looked. Was that because he had another hospital nightmare, after being in one for hours because of Dave?

“I had never been in a hospital, before that day,” Dave finds himself admitting, “It wasn’t like TV makes it out to be, but I guess TV dramatizes everything. It was still pretty unnerving, though. Waking up in some room I didn’t recognize, alone.”

Shit. That probably sounded bad. And even worse because he was making this all about himself, again. He was supposed to be letting Karkat talk.

He was happy to hear that his head massage was helping Karkat. Maybe if he let Karkat talk more it would help with this, too.

“Why do you hate hospitals so much?”

-

Karkat sighs. Is it time for his tragic background story? He hasn’t had to tell it himself in awhile; whenever anyone joined their little (not so little anymore) friend group they always got the histories from other people in the group. Terezi lost her eyesight when she was little; Gamzee’s brother is in prison for murdering their dad; Tavros lost control of his legs and Vriska lost her arm in a game of truth or dare, long before they met anyone else.

What a messed up group of people they are. And Karkat…

“My mom died of cancer when I was little,” he says. “I spent a lot of time there because my dad and brother were busy with shit. Was there when she died. I can’t stand the smell of antiseptic.”

That should be enough, right? He doesn’t have to go into the details. 

“You’ve never been to a hospital before?” he asks, curious, lifting his head up to peer at Dave with a frown. Dave’s hand stops moving but doesn’t leave his hair. “Why not?”

-

Dave’s heart sinks as Karkat tells him his story.

“Fuck,” Dave whispers, “Sorry for making you bring it up, man. And I’m sorry about your mom, too. I wouldn’t even begin to know what that was like. That must have been really hard.”

Dave picks up the stroking of his fingers, running his hand down from the top of Karkat’s head and down his shoulder, then back up again. He feels like turning his head to kiss Karkat on the temple, but holds himself back.

“And I’ve just never been to one. Other than when I was born, I suppose. Or who knows. Maybe Ma popped me out in an inflatable pool in the living room. Did that shit old school. Or maybe my Bro gave birth to me himself, in some freak twist. It’s just been me and him for as long as I can remember. Okay, thinking about Bro giving birth to me is too fucking weird. I’ll just say he artificially created me in a lab or some shit. That makes a lot more sense.”

-

Karkat shrugs. “It was a long time ago.”

That doesn’t make it better, but it makes it easier. Ugh, that doesn’t even make any fucking sense.

Dave’s fingers move again, trailing light lines from the crown of his head, down his neck, all the way to his shoulder. Then up and down again. On the third pass Karkat can’t help but shudder, the sensation on his neck so close to tickling but not quite, near overwhelming but he doesn’t want it to stop.

“I’m guessing your bro isn’t actually your brother?” Karkat asks, voice slightly shaky. “He sounds like a fucking asshole either way. We should get you in to see a doctor. You probably need a bunch of shots and shit.”

Karkat bites his lip, wondering if he should keep his next question to himself. But no one’s ever accused him of being smart.

“Why weren’t you taken to the hospital if you’ve had broken bones before?”

-

“I thought that maybe sometimes we weren’t related. But we, uh...the family resemblance is definitely there.” Dave says, wincing a little as he says the words.

He doesn’t want to be anything like Bro.

He doesn’t want to even look like Bro.

Dave squirms a little uncomfortably in his seat. “I’ve gone twenty-three years without any shots or whatever. Bro never took me because he said it was too much money. And that I should be able to look after that kind of shit on my own.”

Dave gives a noncommittal little half-shrug.

“So, I did.”

-

Karkat grits his teeth against the rage that crashes down on him. He breathes in, counts to ten, and breathes out. Yelling at Dave won’t solve anything, even if it would temporarily make him feel better.

Yeah, years of therapy helped him manage his anger. Shocker.

He slips his arm around Dave’s waist and tugs him impossibly closer, returning his head to its position on Dave’s shoulder.

“He’s a shitty person and an idiot on top of that,” Karkat says. “That’s abuse and I’m sorry he did that to you. We’ll get you in to see a doctor. Get your shots, maybe some x-rays to make sure your bones healed right.”

“You don’t have insurance through work, right?” he asks. “Have you applied for state insurance? It’s pretty shitty but it covers basic stuff.”

It wouldn’t surprise him if Dave hasn’t applied. Karkat wouldn’t have known where the fuck to start with being an adult if his dad hadn’t been there holding his hand the whole fucking way. He still calls him up sometimes, panicked, when shit doesn’t go his way. Being an adult is hard.

-

Karkat pulls Dave tightly against him, causing Dave to let down a little sound of surprise.

 _That’s abuse_.

Dave cringes at the word. He...he knew that. Now, at least. It wasn’t until he was finally out of that hellhole that he was actually able to comprehend what he’d been through for eighteen years, and how fucked up it all was. Especially when he started to hang out with people like John and realize that Dave did not have anywhere close to a normal upbringing.

But it still sucked to think about.

Karkat says _we’ll_ like it’s the most natural thing ever. Of course Karkat would take him to the doctor. Of course Karkat would want to make sure Dave was healthy and had his shots and make sure his body wasn’t all kinds of fucked up from years of abuse and neglect.

Even though Karkat hates hospitals.

Then Karkat is asking questions about insurance, and Dave feels his face growing hot with shame.

“N-...no, I don’t.”

He didn’t even know what any of that meant, but damn if he was going to say it out loud and make himself sound even more pathetic than he already had.

“I haven’t applied, no,” Dave mumbles, “I was surprised I even had a _birth certificate_.”

-

Karkat gives in to the urge to rub his face against Dave’s shoulder. Fuck it, right? Dave already knows he’s embarrassing as fuck.

“That’s okay,” he says reassuringly. “I wouldn’t have known how to do jack shit if my dad didn’t help me out. Or Kankri, I guess, but I’m more likely to murder him in cold blood than let him help me. I’ll show you how to apply online and shit, if you want. It’s a fucking hassle but you’ll be able to go to the hospital when you’re hurt.”

He tries very hard not to think about a younger Dave tending to his wounds by himself. If he ever meets Dave’s bro he’s going to kick him in the dick and rip his teeth out one by one.

“What’re you feeling up for now, though?” he asks. “Do you want to try to go back to sleep? It’s still early.”

Fuck, is he being overwhelming and smothering again? He hopes not. He keeps back his questions about how Dave is feeling; if he’s in pain or upset at Karkat for prying. Being an insecure shitfucking dickweed isn’t a good look on anyone, let alone Karkat.

-

Dave’s heart is still hammering, and there’s a churning in his stomach, but he nods along to Karkat’s words. “Thanks, uh...yeah. I’d appreciate that.”

Then Karkat is asking what Dave wants to do, and Dave finds himself smiling.

“Uh, I’m pretty fuckin’ wired after that coffee, to be honest.” Dave says, “So I don’t think I could sleep. And I’m actually getting kind of antsy, being cooped up indoors. Maybe we could go for a walk, or maybe a drive somewhere? I need to get the fuck out and stretch my legs, at least. I’m feeling pretty good today. Arm finally doesn’t feel tender, haven’t had a headache or a dizzy spell or whatever. So it’d be great to get some fresh air.”

-

Is that allowed? Karkat can’t see why it wouldn’t be, if Dave is feeling okay. Karkat’s been making shopping trips and shit the past couple days, which isn’t exactly a relaxing stroll, but at least he hasn’t been trapped inside. 

“You got anywhere in mind?” Karkat asks, not moving just yet. “I can drive us somewhere or we could just walk around for a bit. Or if you need some time to yourself I can just fuck off and let you get some fresh air without clinging to your side like a profane barnacle.”

He doesn’t like that idea. Dave is still hurt, could still have his symptoms get worse, and the idea of not being there if that happens makes Karkat feel sick. But if Dave needs space, and he’s around other people, Karkat will suck it up and deal with it.

-

Dave ponders it for a moment, still kneading at Karkat’s shoulder.

“You know what we don’t got around here that I am fucking dyingggg for?” Dave asks, “Fucking froyo, my dude. There’s this one shop that’s getting a lot of buzz on Instagram—it’s like an hour drive from here—and they do frozen yogurt, ice cream, gelato, waffles, cotton candy tacos. Every Instagram-worthy dessert you can think of, this place has got it. So maybe we can take a drive up there, make a trip out of it? I can pay you for the gas money, obviously.”

-

Dave doesn’t tell him to fuck off, thank god. Karkat tilts his head to hide his smile in Dave’s shoulder. He wants to spend every second he can with Dave.

“I haven’t had froyo in years,” he says. “That sounds fucking delicious.”

He very regretfully pulls away from Dave with a sigh. Maybe he can convince him to play with his hair later? Tonight, maybe; see if he can get a little more sleep while this apparent magical cure is still available to him. It seems selfish, since Dave is the one with the head injury, but god, sleep without nightmares is fucking addicting.

“I’m gonna shower quick.”

He makes sure to grab clothes to bring in with him this time, so he doesn’t mentally scar Dave again. Even though Dave insists that he’s attractive. ~~Did Dave _like_ seeing him shirtless?~~

He checks his arm out of habit when he gets in the shower, and for a heart-stopping moment he thinks he sees something, but it’s just a trick of the light. He hates how quickly his mind jumped to Dave, hope shooting through him, only to turn to lead and crash to his feet. 

He showers and shaves quickly, not wanting to make Dave wait. He puts on a pair of dark jeans instead of sweatpants, cursing as he tries to get them up over his damp skin. He puts on another sweater and doesn’t glance at himself in the mirror as he leaves the bathroom. He doesn’t even bother trying to do anything to his hair.

-

Karkat goes off to shower, and once the bathroom door closes behind him Dave is in a sudden flurry of activity. He hurries to his room and shucks himself out of his sweatpants. Come hell or high water, he will get dressed by himself today.

What the fuck does he wear? He’s only stressing about this as much as he is because a bunch of options are just off the table if he wants to get dressed on his own. That’s all.

A button down? He looks out the window. Nice and sunny today. Maybe some skate shorts? Obviously he isn’t gonna be on his board, but damn if they weren’t soft and comfy as fuck. And easy to slip on. Easier than fucking pants, anyway.

Dave picks out some faded red skateboard shorts (his favourite pair) and a short-sleeved black-and-white plaid shirt. He’s able to slip on boxers and the shorts with no trouble at all, and the button down shirt is a stroke of fucking genius. He doesn’t have to put it over his head, and because it’s short-sleeved he’s actually able to slip his cast through without much fuss. Doing the buttons up one-handed proves a tad challenging, but he takes his time with it and manages to get all the buttons done up without getting them mixed up. Fucking success!

He slips on his black canvas shoes, which means he doesn’t even have to mess around with pulling on socks. Hell yeah. It was about fucking time his luck came back around. Dave grabs his phone and wallet and heads over to the bathroom to get his hair under control, and brush his teeth. He heard Karkat getting out of the shower a few minutes ago, so it looked like the bathroom was free.

Once he’s all freshened up, Dave heads out to the living room where Karkat is waiting by the door, putting on his shoes.

Ohh, sweet merciful mother—Karkat cleans up so fucking good. Are those jeans? And here Dave thought he didn’t own any denim. God, that’s sexy. Dave walks over to grab his house keys off the table, and gets a waft of Karkat’s body wash, shampoo, and after shave.

Dave feels like fucking drooling. It should be a fucking crime to smell that fucking sexy. Dave is so glad he doused himself in his body spray while he was in the bathroom, but there’s still no way he smells as good as Karkat does.

Oh, shit, spray! Ooh, Dave should get some of that fucking spray-on deodorant, that way he actually might be able to get at both pits without practically dislocating his good arm in the process. Like he almost did in the bathroom just now. He should make a note of that on his phone when they get to the car.

Dave opens up the door and flashes Karkat an excited smile. He is so fucking ready to get out of this damn apartment and eat some froyo. “After you.”

-

Karkat puts his shoes on and is about to go help Dave get dressed but then Dave is next to him, long legs on display in shorts and a button up shirt covering his chest. Karkat smiles dorkily at him. He smells really good. He’d bury his face in Dave’s shirt and just take a few minutes to smell him if that wouldn’t be weird as shit.

The sun is shining brightly today and Karkat almost wishes he had shades of his own, but he just looks like a tool in sunglasses. Not that Dave doesn’t, but he pulls it off better than Karkat ever could.

“You’ve mastered putting on a shirt,” he notes as they leave the apartment. He passes his phone to Dave and says, “Put the address in. And for god’s sake don’t let me look at the phone while I’m driving. I can only look after one person at a time.”

“Have you been there before?” Karkat asks as he starts driving. He may be extra careful with Dave in the car, doing his best not to jostle him around too much. “The frozen yogurt place near my house shut down awhile ago.”

-

“Nah, I don’t get out to the big city much. Would be a hell of a workout getting there on my board.” Dave says as he brings up Google and searches the address. “And I’ve never been there, just seen a couple people I follow on Instagram tag the place. I’d never had froyo before I moved here. I think I actually went to the one you’re talkin’ about, the one that closed down. Man, that was a shame. Their shit was so good. I haven’t had any since they closed that place. Anyway, if you get us to the highway it’s a pretty smooth sailing, the exit we get off at doesn’t come up for like an hour.”

Dave sets Karkat’s phone into the cup holder and pulls his own out of his pocket. He opens up a note on his phone that he puts all his reminders into, and punches in ‘SPRAY DEODORANT’ in all caps. He pauses for a bit, his thumb hovering over the keys, and then adds ‘more short-sleeve button ups’.

“And I’ve mastered the art of the button-down, anyway,” Dave says as Karkat heads for the highway, “I only have like, two other shirts in this style, though. But there’s some thrift shops near that froyo place we can check out. Don’t worry, I’m speedy when it comes to clothes shopping. I just grab whatever’s my size and I’m good to go.”

-

“You’re not going to play thrift store roulette or force me to wait for hours while you try shit on?” Karkat snorts. Getting his friends out of a thrift store is like herding cats, only the cats keep piling hats on your head every time you complain about this _taking too damn long, I want to go to the bookstore you obstinate fuckwits_.

“Hey, you should put on some of your music,” he says as he pulls onto the highway. “I haven’t got a chance to listen to more of it yet.”

-

Dave shrugs. “Nah. I’m an efficient motherfucker. Quick in and out, I’ll snag up a few flannels, maybe some lederhosen, and we’re outta there.” Dave says, “Besides, there’s a lot more shit than just clothes to look at. There’s a few antique stores—sometimes they keep the really weird shit in the back, I’ve gotten lucky a few times and found real animal bones—oh, and this sweet fucking bookstore that’s like, three fucking floors.”

Dave blinks rapidly at Karkat when he mentions Dave putting on music, though obviously he can’t see it through the shades.

“Aw shit, you’re handing me the aux cord, huh? You’ve given me far too much power.” Dave says with a grin, already bringing up Spotify on his phone.

He leans over and picks up the aux cable Karkat already has dangling from the outlet, and plugs in his phone. Dave mulls over which playlist to put on for a moment, then finally hits play just as Karkat is merging onto the highway.

https://open.spotify.com/track/086ZLRqwpXoZcwJ87bnzIE?si=rXWsnFTgQ6eCRPPY8sMS0w

-

“A bookstore?” Karkat says, perking up. He loves the shit out of bookstores. He can’t buy anything because he’s broke as fuck now, but he loves wandering the shelves, picking random books and opening to a passage somewhere in the middle. God, he’s such a fucking nerd.

Bookstores and libraries were his babysitters as a kid, when Kankri and his dad were busy and he couldn’t visit his mom in the hospital. He’d spend hours bulldozing his way for books too advanced for him. 

He lets the music wash over him as he drives; he can’t focus on the words but he enjoys the sound of Dave’s voice. He thinks he prefers the songs where Dave is rapping, despite not being a huge fan of the genre, just because he likes hearing Dave speak. His finger taps to the beat on the steering wheel as he drives.

“Anywhere else you wanna go while we’re there?” he asks. As long as Dave is feeling good and doesn’t exhaust himself Karkat is up for anything.

-

“I gotta get some spray-on deodorant,” Dave says, “Think that might work better than the regular shit I got right now. I had to bathe in body spray to make up for the fact I fuckin’ reek because I can’t get at my pit. Well, I can, but it’s awkward. And before you say shit about putting it on for me, I’m just gonna pump the brakes on that right there. You already do plenty.”

Dave swaps out his phone for Karkat’s, keeping his in the cup holder and letting the songs play on shuffle. He keeps Karkat phone in his hand so he can keep an eye on when their exit comes up.

“Other than that, I’m cool to just wander around, really. I don’t really care where we go as long as I’m—“ with you “—uh, getting some fresh air.”

Karkat seems really interested in the bookstore. That’s cute as fuck. Dave likes bookstores, too. He spent a lot of time hanging out at the library back in Houston. It was quiet and peaceful and had an air-conditioner that actually worked. And they let Dave hang out for hours and hours without kicking him out. He could play computer games and read comics and books as much as he wanted. It’s where he got to read all the Harry Potter books.

That could be their last stop, then, after grabbing froyo and getting the shit Dave needed. They could just wander around the bookstore for a couple hours until they decided to head back to the apartment and get some lunch.

https://open.spotify.com/track/014PK6hpw5c5e3e7WKIYh7?si=btm0bj7bRyOVeK001L59dQ

-

Karkat laughs at the mental image Dave’s words bring, of him awkwardly trying to help Dave put deodorant on. He’s feeling surprisingly good today. Maybe because he got some quality sleep, maybe because of the nice sunny weather, or maybe just because Dave is sitting next to him.

“I think I can allow us both that small dignity,” he says. “We’ll stop at walmart or something to get you some.”

Karkat catches snatches of lyrics while he drives, and they’re almost always ridiculous in Dave’s peculiar, hilarious way. His face probably gives away too much of what he thinks about that.

Dave lets him know when the exit is coming up, then directs him to the fro-yo place. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but it has a fair bit of traffic. He makes sure to get to the door first, pulling it open for Dave and raising an eyebrow.

-

They arrive at the froyo place and Karkat holds the door open for Dave because he’s a fuckin’ gent. Dave eagerly passes through the door away and looks around to take in the sights.

The store is all pastels and neon signs, with a gigantic chalk board behind the bar that lists all the different desserts they have on the menu in multi-coloured chalk.

There’s a small buffet-style setup on the far end of the store where people are loading up their desserts with toppings. All the frozen yogurt machines are in the far right corner, so that’s where Dave is headed. There’s a ton of flavours, but Dave beelines it for the cake batter flavour. John can’t fucking stand the cake batter flavour but Dave thinks it makes the perfect base. Then you can go buck wild with the toppings. Dave places a cup underneath the pump and gives it a twist, watching as the froyo swirls around and fills up the cup. Once it’s about half-way full, Dave lets go of the crank and heads for the toppings.

Strawberries? Fuck yeah, load ‘em up. Green apple popping boba? You bet your sweet ass. Dave helps himself to five heaping spoonfuls of the popping boba.

A few chunks of pineapple and mango, and Dave’s cup is already stuffed full. He heads over for the dreaded weigh-in, quickly paying for his froyo while Karkat lingers at the toppings station. He isn’t about to let Karkat pay after he bought Subway, pizza, and all those groceries.

Dave waits by the scale as Karkat comes over with his cup of froyo, popping a chunk of pineapple into his mouth.

“Well, what did ya end up going with?” Dave asks as Karkat sets his cup on the scale for the cashier to weigh in and price out.

-

Karkat takes a moment to observe Dave as he eagerly darts around the shop. It’s cute as fuck; he’s practically vibrating with excitement. He follows much slower, taking his time to look at the different flavors. There sure are a fucking lot of them. He grabs a few sample cups and gives the ones he’s more interested in a try.

He’s overwhelmed with all the options, especially the toppings. Who needs this many toppings? By the time he’s setting his cup down next to Dave’s he’s ready to never make another decision in his life. 

“Half toasted marshmallow, half chocolate hazelnut, and shit ton of those little mochi pieces,” he says as Dave pays. He’d offer to pay, at least for himself, but he’s kind of hurting for cash right now.

He leads them over to sit by one of the free tables near the wall in the back. All the window seats are taken, which kind of fucking sucks, because Karkat would love to bask in the sunlight. But he can do that when they walk around.

-

“You genius bastard, I’ve never tried those two flavours together,” Dave says as they sit down.

The moment they set their cups down Dave swaps them around. “I wanna try a bite, try some of mine.”

Dave grabs a scoop, grabbing both the flavours and a few pieces of the mochi and pops it in his mouth. It was like if Karkat was a flavour. Rich and sweet and soft.

...Wow. That was really corny. Dave is glad he managed to keep that particular thought internal.

Instead he says, “Mm, yep. I can see why you’d go for that.” Which is kind of cryptic and weird to say, but whatever. He swaps their cups back around and goes back to his own froyo once Karkat tries a bite of his.

-

Dave snatches his cup before Karkat can even pick up his spoon, the little thief. This doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it should. 

“If I wanted to taste your bastardization of frozen yogurt I would have got the same thing,” he says, rolling his eyes, but he takes a bite anyway. His nose crinkles at the feel of the boba popping in his mouth; he much prefers regular tapioca pearls. 

“Could be worse,” is his conclusion. He trades their cups back, taking a bite of his own, chewing happily on his mochi. “I like this combo because it tastes like s’mores. And also mochi is the fucking best thing to ever be invented.”

-

Dave hums thoughtfully around his spoon. “I’ve never had s’mores before, so I can’t really make the comparison. But I’ll take your word for it,” he says, “the mochi is really good. I would’ve gotten some but I kinda ran out of room. Guess I was craving fruit. Must be the lack of vitamin D. Usually I’m outside all the time, back in Houston I just walked around for hours after school, popped into the library when it got really hot. It doesn’t get as hot around here, but I still like to be outside.”

Dave leans around to look over Karkat’s shoulder, his spoon hanging out of his mouth. “Ooh, shit, speakin’ of vitamin D—that couple is getting ready to leave, let’s go grab that sunny booth before someone else gets to it.”

Dave is on his feet as soon as the couple leaves, heading over to the booth by the window and plopping down. Karkat joins him, sliding in across from him, and from this seat Dave can not only catch some much-needed rays but also see the rest of the store.

...Wow, there were a lot of couples in here. Pretty much all dudes with girls hanging off their arms. And whatever groups came in were pretty much fully-female, crowding around the neon signs and helping each other get the perfect picture of their dessert. Dave and Karkat were the only dudes in the place who weren’t with girls.

Which means it totally makes it seem like they’re on a date.

This wasn’t a fucking date. Dave just wanted some fresh air and sunshine, and to stretch his legs. So what if the froyo place was super fucking female-oriented, a dude can mow down on some fucking frozen yogurt with his main bro and have it not be a federal fucking issue. And especially not a date, which this was clearly not. Dave turns his head to look out the window to look at the street instead of the couples in the shop, chewing on a bite of mango and strawberry.

And if he sneaks a few glances at the boy across from him who looks like a literal pussycat in a sunbeam, that’s for him to know.

-

“You’ve never had _s’mores_?” Karkat repeats, shocked, when they sit down at their new, sunny table. He closes his eyes and enjoys the warmth on his face and cold on his tongue. He doesn’t get outside nearly enough, always busy with something or tucked away inside watching movies or reading a book. “We have to make some. It won’t be the same as doing it over a fire pit obviously, but you can make them in the microwave.”

He waits until Dave’s eaten a few of his multitudes of toppings, then scoops up some of his mochi to dump in Dave’s cup while Dave’s busy staring at the window.

He should stop acting shocked every time Dave says that he hasn’t tried a certain food; it’s kind of a dick move, knowing how Dave was raised. And it means Karkat gets to introduce to him to a bunch of new, delicious treats. 

-

Dave finishes chewing his fruit and looks back down at his cup, going for another scoop. His spoon freezes as he sees a scoop of mochi sitting on top of his half-melted froyo, boba and fruit.

“Oh, shit, mochi surprise!” Dave says, instantly scooping up a bite with some of his froyo and popping it in his mouth.

“Hey, that could be the name of a shop that sells mochi,” Dave says, “Mochi Surprise, and you stuff the mochi with random ice cream flavours. And it’s like those beans from Harry Potter, like where you can get normal flavours and weird as fuck but still like sorta good and then nasty flavours. So you could have your regular chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, whatever. But then you get Flamin’ Hot Cheeto, avocado, butter popcorn...” Dave scoops up another bite of mochi, “We gotta patent this shit, my dude, I think I might be onto something.”

Dave chews his mochi. There’s still a bit of Karkat’s froyo on a few of the pieces, making Dave remember how Karkat said it tasted like s’mores. He went on a spiel about mochi and forgot.

“And I’ve never been camping, I thought that was the only way to eat s’mores,” Dave says, “I’ve watched some horror flicks where the kids went camping and shit. Not that they have a lot time to chill by the fire pit when they’re too busy running away from some dude in a hockey mask or whatever the fuck.”

Dave looks up at Karkat with a smile. “But yeah, dude, let’s do it. It’s chocolate, marshmallows and...some sort of cookie, right? Or cracker. Can’t remember. Anyway, I’ll bet a Wal-Mart or whatever would have the shit we need.”

-

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Karkat says, wrinkling his nose. “Unless you can get it to go viral; that would probably work. Coast on idiots recording their reactions to wasabi ice cream mochi. That’s a valid business venture.”

He reaches over, scoops up one of Dave’s strawberries, and pops it into his mouth. 

“Camping is bullshit,” he says when he swallows. “It’s too hot, there’s too many bugs that always make it into your tent, and everything in the middle of the night sounds like it wants to kill you. The s’mores and the stars are the only things worthwhile, and s’mores you can do at home.”

His froyo is almost gone, the rest melting sad and slow at the bottom. He hurries up, determined to finish it before it’s just a bunch of goop at the bottom.

“It’s a graham cracker. They’re pretty gross by themselves but chocolate and toasted marshmallows can save pretty much anything,” he shrugs. “We should build a blanket fort or something, simulate the camping experience without the shitty things.”

That’s an idea. It’s been a long time since he made a blanket fort.

-

Dave nods along as Karkat speaks, then scoops up a spoonful of strawberries when he sees Karkat go for one and drops them into Karkat’s cup.

“A blanket fort?” Dave asks, “That sounds cool. How do we do that?”

Man. This was probably all pretty standard shit, huh? Dave wasn’t exactly making the fact that his childhood was basically non-existent any more obvious.

He couldn’t have made much of a ‘fort’ with his setup, back then. His bed had been a used mattress on a wooden skid held off the floor by cinder blocks. No top sheet, just a bare mattress and one thin blanket.

Being able to build a fort against Bro would have been nice.

-

Dave gives him some of his strawberries which probably shouldn’t make him feel so warm and gooey on the inside. He’s just returning the favor for the mochi, after all. Still, it’s sweet, and Karkat grins at him as he takes a bite.

“Depends on how much you feel like destroying the apartment,” he says, brows furrowing. He is the fucking _best_ at blanket forts. Sollux can eat shit. “We can just move the table out of the way and use the couch and the cushions as support with a sheet thrown over them if you want. But if you’re fine with making a mess we can move one of the mattresses to the ground and use tables and shit for supports.”

He takes another bite, thinking. “Do you have christmas lights? We could string those up and connect a sheet to the tv. It’s day three, I think you can probably start watching stuff a bit more.”

-

Dave grins right on back when he sees Karkat’s face light up at getting more strawberries, and his smile only gets bigger as Karkat explains the blanket fort.

“Oh, fuck, let’s trash the place! Egbert isn’t there to have a fucking conniption about it, and if we’re doing this we are doing it the hell out of it.” Dave says, “Speaking of Egbert, he’s got a box of Christmas shit in the closet. There’s some lights in there.”

This was gonna be so fucking rad. Dave is practically vibrating in his seat just thinking about it.

“What do you wanna watch?” Dave asks.

-

Dave's excitement is contagious. He’s so fucking cute, and it’s becoming hard to ignore that this feels very much like a date. Karkat starts bouncing his leg to stop himself from doing something stupid like nudging Dave with it under the table. He takes his last bite and sets his cup aside.

“We already watched all of Harry Potter,” he points out, even though he barely paid any attention to the movies. “We could start on Lord of the Rings.”

He bites his lip, thinking that over. “Or maybe not, that seems kind of long and you’re supposed to slowly reintroduce shit. Maybe a Netflix show? What do you think?”

-

So a cutesy froyo date where they’re sharing food leads to a blanket fort lit by colourful lights and _Netflix and Chill_?

...Fuck. This was so totally a—

Nope! No, nope, it was not a date, it was definitely not a date! Friends could build blanket forts and watch movies! That was what Dave’s childhood should have been. Karkat’s just being the kind, caring and incredible guy he is by helping Dave experience what he missed out on.

It was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for him.

In fact, Karkat kept doing that. Kept doing things that were the sweetest, most thoughtful thing Dave’s ever had done for him. He kept beating his own record, the longer they spent time together.

It makes Dave’s heart race to think of all the ways Karkat would continue to keep breaking it.

Dave finishes the last bite of his dessert and nods at Karkat. “Yeah, Netflix works. And if we get sick of binging Netflix we can just listen to some music and chill out or whatever.”

-

Karkat gives Dave a crooked smile, imagining laying next to him in a dimly lit blanket fort, music playing softly in the background while they talk. Fuck, that sounds so romantic. Maybe that was a bad idea. But Dave seems to be into it? He’s really excited, Karkat can’t just say “haha, just kidding.”

His phone goes off suddenly, a bunch of times in a row, and he startles from his thoughts. He digs his phone out with a frown, the messages still pouring in, and discovers that they’re all from his idiot friends. Variations of _are you alright?_ and _you hit someone with your CAR_? and, worst of all _YOU’RE STAYING WITH HIM? ARE YOU CRAZY?_

He’s lucky Sollux kept his mouth shut for as long as he did, he supposes. He wonders what finally made him crack. Probably Terezi.

“Hold on, my friends just found out what happened,” he tells Dave, fingers flying across his phone as he reassures him that he’s not hurt and he’s not being blackmailed, and Dave is not a murderer. When he’s done typing out a long, bitchy rant about how he can take care of himself, thank you very fucking much for the vote of confidence, he turns his phone off.

“Sorry about that,” he says, rolling his eyes and giving his attention back to Dave.

\- Dave snorts in amusement watching Karkat furiously type away on his phone as his brow furrows deeper and deeper in frustration.

“No worries, man,” Dave says, getting up out of the booth.

He pokes Karkat on the forehead, pushing down the crease between his eyebrows. “Your face is gonna get stuck like that, my dude.”

Dave collects their empty cups as he grins cheekily at Karkat, then goes to toss them out before they leave. He meets Karkat at the door and they head out onto the street.

“Alright, there’s a thrift store just up the street, so we can pop in there next.” Dave says.

They walk up the street and into the thrift store. Dave is true to his word, flitting through the aisles and plucking off a bunch of shirts, all button-down short sleeves. A few are just plain colours, but most are patterns. They range from classic plaid, to stripes, to colourful and garish ones that scream 80s. Dave doesn’t try a single one one, just makes sure the size isn’t something he would totally swim in. None of the sizes are one and the same, but they’re close enough. He’s got a whole stack hanging off his arm in a matter of minutes, then heads over to the cash. Then they’re back out on the street, heading back towards the car.

“Alright, the bookstore is a little ways away, so we can drive a bit closer to it,” Dave says, checking the address on his phone while they walk, “Then we can just hit up a Wal-Mart or whatever on the way back to get that shit for s’mores. Oh, and deodorant. Ah, sorry, I gotta say all this shit out loud to like...put it out into the universe so I’ll actually remember to do it. I know you’re here to remember that shit, but, like—old habits. Feel free to call me out if my incessant mumbling gets too ridiculous. Sometimes I forget how long I’ve been going for or how much of it was out loud. John’s heard me saying some pretty incriminating shit that way, that’s for sure.”

They get back to Karkat’s car, and Dave sets up the aux again, hitting shuffle.

https://open.spotify.com/track/2WOXaXpzS6Ep08LGgJZhae?si=4w-wGWn4QeeeFlFDLlLDcg

-

Fuck, Dave’s taste in clothes is _terrible_. If Kanaya sees him in one of those more… colorful shirts she will politely lose her mind. Karkat’s sense of fashion is black on black, with some dark grey in there for variety, but at least it doesn’t come with the possibility of blinding random passerby. 

The worst part is that Karkat’s fairly sure he’s still going to think Dave is the most attractive person he’s ever seen, no matter the clothes.

“What kind of incriminating shit?” Karkat asks curiously, amused at Dave automatically claiming the music. He puts on a surprisingly sweet song as Karkat pulls out of the parking lot. “If you suddenly become an annoying piece of shit I’ll let you know. I don’t have much of a filter. But as long as you don’t give a fuck if I zone out sometimes we probably won’t have a problem.”

-

“Ahh, I don’t really remember,” Dave shrugs, “And trust me, I’m used to people tuning me out. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened with you yet. Normally it happens faster.”

Dave leans back, scratching at his nose a little. “But if it means it takes longer for me to drive you up the wall, go ahead and zone out every now and then. S’not like I’ll even notice.”

-

Karkat shrugs. 

“I’ve developed a high tolerance for brain-melting garbage over the years,” he says. “It’s impossible not to around my friends. A few of them also info-dump on me at a moment’s notice on top of the regular bullshit. Not to mention growing up around my fucking brother, who can’t shut up for a minute.”

God, everyone in his life is a fucking blabbermouth, aren’t they? Dave’s rambling stories have nothing on Vriska setting a scene as a DM or Terezi talking about the history of the law. Or Kankri, just like, in general.

He chances a look at Dave out of the corner of his eyes. “Trust me, nothing you’ve said so far is half as mind searingly awful as listening to Gamzee talk about miracles and juggalo shit for the eight millionth time.”

-

Dave looks out the window, smiling a little wryly as Karkat speaks, watching the shops slowly pass by.

“Your brother, huh? You’ve mentioned him a few times. Older or younger? The way you talk about him sounds like he’s the little brother.” Dave says.

A brother who can’t shut the fuck up for a minute, huh?

It sounded better than a brother that never said anything at all.

-

Karkat rolls his eyes.

“Older, and he never let me fucking forget it,” he grouches. “He _means_ well, probably, but he’s a sanctimonious toolbag who thinks he’s always right. He was always trying to boss me around because he ‘knew what was best for me.’ Ugh.”

“He was in practically every club that existed, though, which is probably why we didn’t end up killing each other. Small mercies, I guess.”

Karkat makes a turn and pulls into a parking lot. “Is this the place?”

-

Dave stays quiet as Karkat talks about his brother, the little smile still on his face.

Huh. So that’s what brothers were supposed to be like.

“Yeah, this is the place,” Dave says, smile widening as he looks up at the building and unlatches his seatbelt.

Karkat shuts off the car and they step out and head inside the building. Dave immediately turns to see Karkat’s reaction as they step through the doors.

“So you’ve never been here before?”

-

Karkat looks around with wide eyes. This place is _huge_ ; there are more books than he’s ever seen in his entire life on display, and it seems to go on for miles. And this is only the first floor.

“N-no,” he says, awed. “I don’t get out here much.”

He takes a deep breath, inhaling that particular smell that only book stores seem to have. 

“This is my heaven,” he informs Dave. “I don’t even know where to start.”

He manages to tear his eyes away from the stretch of books before him, and finds Dave already looking at him. The expression on his face is soft and fond and it makes Karkat’s heart go fucking crazy. He was just gawping like an idiot at some books; why is Dave looking at him like that?

-

“Book smell, right?” Dave says, grinning knowingly when Karkat looks at him and his expression shifts to looking like he’s been caught red-handed. “Shit’s the best. My favourite part about walking into the library, back in Houston. Well, that and the icy cold A/C.”

Dave walks further into the bookstore, giving a little ‘how y’all doing?’ in response to the clerk who greets them as they come in, and starts heading for the far left corner.

“I’ve never been here, either. I just saw that it was nearby on the Maps app so I thought it’d be cool to check out, since the picture showed how big the building was,” Dave explains, “Let’s just weave through the aisles and work our way up.”

-

Karkat’s pretty sure he’s blushing, but he says, “Uh, yeah. It’s nice. If they could make a scented candle that smells like this i’d be so fucking far in debt.”

Karkat trails behind Dave, sticking his hand out to let his fingers run along the spines of the books as he goes. He definitely wants to check out the romance section but he holds off on making a bee-line for it, knowing that once he dives in there he won’t resurface without a fight.

They wander through a few aisles without much fuss, but when they get to the young adult section Karkat grins. He picks a random book off of the shelf and turns to Dave.

“Okay so we have a game we like to play when we go to bookstores,” he says, gesturing with the book in his hand. “We usually do crime, young adult, and adult sections but any work I guess. You gotta choose a random book and open it somewhere in the middle and pick out the worst or funniest sentence on the page. Whoever’s is more hilarious wins.”

-

Dave instantly grabs a book off the shelf without even looking to see what it is.

“You are on, motherfucker.” Dave says, “Okay, you first, since you declared the challenge.”

-

Karkat grins, flipping the book open to a random page. His eyebrows raise as he skims over the text.

“Damn, okay,” he says, and begins to read. “‘You want me to admit my fucking sins? I did it, okay? I slept with your boyfriend. And you know what the best part is? We’d come here, to this house, and we’d drink your wine, and he’d screw me on your sleeping bag.’”

He reads a bit further and says, “And then some other girl attacks her with a butcher knife. Jesus, what is this book about?”

He snaps the book closed and shoves it back on the shelf with a shrug. “Well that one was a fucking flop. What’ve you got?”

-

Dave chuckles as Karkat reads out from the book.

“Jesus. Sounds like one of those camping trips gone awry I was talking about earlier.” he says.

Dave flips open his book to a random page, not even bothering to look at the cover. He clears his throat and reads out the first quote his eyes fall on.

“...’I am coming to terms with the fact that loving someone requires a leap of faith, and that a soft landing is never guaranteed’,” Dave’s face pulls into a frown as he gets to the end of the quote, thoroughly disappointed.

“What the hell, that wasn’t funny at all,” he mutters, snapping the book closed. He pinches up his nose at the bright purple cover. “Ugh, no wonder.”

He shoves it back where he found it with a defeated sigh.

“Alright, you win.”

-

Karkat laughs, trying to keep it quiet in the store. He nudges Dave’s shoulder with his own.

“C’mon, we’ll probably find some real fucking gems in the adult section,” he says, exiting the aisle and looking around at the signs. It’s probably upstairs. “You wouldn’t fucking believe how terrible some people are at writing sex scenes, oh my god. Feferi used to do dramatic readings.”

As he leads Dave upstairs he asks, “What kind of books do you like? You said you don’t read much, right? What holds your attention?”

-

The idea of Karkat doing a dramatic reading of a sex scene doesn’t seem quite so much ‘hilarious’ to Dave as it does ‘dangerous’, but he follows Karkat all the same.

“I’m one of those people that read all the fucking time as a kid, but my attention span has deteriorated with age,” Dave says as they ascend the winding staircase to the second floor.

“Back in Houston, I stayed in the library for hours. I read all the Harry Potter books there. Since I was there so often it was easy to snag the new releases. But I never took them home so I never checked anything out, so I would just read the book in one sitting so that someone who had reserved it couldn’t come scoop it up and take forever to get through it.”

Karkat leads them over to the adult section, and Dave runs his fingers over the spines of the books as they walk. “As I got older, there wasn’t the same urgency to get through a book anymore. And after I moved here from Houston, I basically stopped reading altogether. Couldn’t even tell you what the last book I read was. But I like science-fiction, I guess. Stuff with time travel is always cool.”

-

“I spent a lot of time reading in libraries too,” Karkat says. “The local library had beanbag chairs the kids could sit in and I threw a fit every time I got there and someone was already sitting in mine. Lucky the librarians liked me or I would have been banned within a week.”

He was kind of a bratty kid. He’s still a pretty bratty adult, but he likes to think he’s matured at least a little.

“Scifi is cool. I love books with good world-building, even though I’m pretty garbage at writing it,” he says. “Time travel is something I can’t wrap my head around, though. Too many fucking paradoxes.”

They get to the adult section and Karkat grins gleefully. Eating junk food and laughing until tears ran down his face as Feferi stood, dramatically waving a hand around while she read to him and his friends, are some of his favorite memories. He grabs a random book and flips through it until he reaches a sex scene. 

“Oh my fucking god, are you ready for this?” he asks. He clears his throat. “‘“Empty my tanks,” I’d begged breathlessly, as once more she began drawing me deep inside her pleasure cave. Her vaginal ratchet moved in concertina-like waves, slowly chugging my organ as a boa constrictor swallows its prey. Soon I was locked in, balls deep, ready to be ground down by the enamelled pepper mill within her.’”

He tries to keep a straight face as he reads, but by the end he’s nearly choking on his own laughter. A couple walking by gives him an odd look.

“Holy shit,” he says. “The term ‘vaginal ratchet’ will haunt me until my dying day.”

-

“Why do the straights have to make sex sound so godawfully painful for all parties involved?” Dave says between bouts of laughter as Karkat finishes reading out loud. “I’m pretty sure a pussy ain’t a pepper mill. Jesus Christ.”

Dave plucks a book off the shelf. “Alright, ‘vaginal ratchet’ is gonna be a hard one to beat but let’s see here...”

Dave flicks through the pages, scanning around for the telltale signs of an oncoming love scene. He squints suspiciously at the page.

“...I think the fact I can’t fucking tell if they’re even fucking here just proves how shitty this person is at writing a sex scene,” Dave mutters, “Like, listen to this shit:”

Dave clears his throat dramatically again and starts to read.

“...’’Anne,’’ he says, stopping and looking down at me. I am pinned like wet washing with his peg. ‘’Till now, I thought the sweetest sound I could ever hear was cows chewing grass. But this is better.’’ He sways and we listen to the soft suck at the place we meet. Then I move and put all thoughts of livestock out of his head.”

Dave looks up at Karkat. “How did she still want to keep fucking him after a line like that? She should have told him to get the fuck out. Who thinks about cows chewing grass when they’re balls deep?”

-

Karkat covers his mouth in an attempt to quiet his obnoxious laughter.

“Wouldn’t cows chewing grass sound awful to begin with? Jesus christ,” he wheezes. He reaches for another book, yanking it eagerly off the shelf. He finds a scene and, glancing it over, winces.

“Fucking yikes, okay,” he says. 

“‘Katsuro moaned as a bulge formed beneath the material of his kimono, a bulge that Miyuki seized, kneaded, massaged, squashed and crushed. With the fondling, Katsuro’s penis and testicles became one single mound that rolled around beneath the grip of her hand. Miyuki felt as though she was manipulating a small monkey that was curling up its paws.’”

“What does that even mean?” he mutters. “And that sounds painful as fuck. It’s not difficult to write a halfway decent sex scene. This deserves some sort of ‘congrats on being terrible’ award.”

-

Dave cringes when Karkat reads out the word ‘crushed’, and he just keeps wincing and groaning from there.

“Yeah, that was fucking awful,” Dave says, “makes you wonder what these people think about when they’re actually having sex. Like do they really think about stupid shit like, ‘huh this guy’s dick feels like a little monkey’? Okay, well, I mean—I certainly had some thoughts first time I went down on a dude, but it wasn’t anything like that.”

Dave grabs another random book and starts to flip through.

“...The wet friction of her, tight around him, the sight of her open, stretched around him, the cleft of her body, it tore a climax out of him with a final lunge...” Dave trails off, and then breaks into a sharp laugh as he shakes his head, “Holy fuck, I was about to call this one a dud because it wasn’t actually all that bad, but then it says: Like a lepidopterist mounting a tough-skinned insect with a too blunt pin he screwed himself into her.”

Dave snaps the book shut and stuffs it back on the shelf. “Okay, no. That one doesn’t count. It was doing alright until that last line. Let’s find something else.”

Dave scans the spines and then pulls out another book, quickly flipping through. He skims through for a moment before he laughs.

“Okay, okay, here’s another one that makes sex sound like the worst thing ever,” Dave says, then slips into his reading voice, “He came again so hard that his dick wrenched out of her hand and a shot of it hit him straight in the eye and stung like nothing he’d ever had in there, and he yelled with the pain, but the yell could have been anything, and as she grabbed at his dick, which was leaping around like a shower dropped in an empty bath, she scratched his back deeply with the nails of both hands and he shot three more times, in thick stripes on her chest. Like Zorro.”

Dave snickers as he shuts the book. “Why was his dick basically sentient? Dicks don’t thrash around like that. What the hell.”

-

Karkat’s brain gets so stuck on Dave going down on a guy--particularly the image of his pretty lips wrapped around some dude’s dick--that he barely catches what Dave says next. He’s able to give a weak chuckle and then Dave is grabbing another book, and this time the passage makes Karkat laugh for real.

“Like Zorro,” he repeats, wiping at his eyes. “Oh god.”

They continue this for awhile, reading out shitty sex scenes to each other, until Karkat’s cheeks ache and he’s positive his face is an ugly red and his eyes are wet with laughter. Finally, he puts his book down and says, “I won’t survive much more of this. Do you mind if we check out the romance section? You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to, you can wander around or something.”

He’s excited to spec it out. He can’t get anything but maybe he can add a few titles to his ever-expanding list of books to read.


	6. Chapter 6

They head over to the romance section and Karkat instantly starts pulling out books that catch his eye to start reading the synopsis on the back. Dave looks around for a bit, but honestly none of the books here are exactly jumping out at him.

The sci-fi section is in the aisle right across from them, so Dave quietly steps away and leaves Karkat to his books, and starts checking out the shelves in the other section. A bright orange cover catches his eye, and he pulls it off the shelf. There’s an astronaut floating in space on the cover, on what looks like Mars.

Huh, space shit. Cool. Dave wonders if Jade has read this one. He flips it open to a random page and starts to skim through.

Then he goes from skimming, to reading full paragraphs. It’s written mostly in the first-person, some guy is doing audio logs from Mars? Dave flips back to the first page so he can figure out what the hell is happening.

Oh, shit. This guy gets stuck on Mars? Damn, that sucks.

Dave backs up into a chair in the aisle where the shelves break up to make a nook for some tables and chairs, and turns the page, reading on.

-

Karkat is immediately distracted by all the options available to him, pulling out books excitedly to skim the back covers. He tucks the ones away that don’t seem very good; if he had all the time in the world he’d read everything he could get his grubby little hands on, but since he doesn’t he has to be more selective. He turns his phone back on to write down some of the titles in his notebook app, grimacing at the influx of texts from his friends. He ignores them all.

When he’s finally pulled himself back into the world around him he looks up, wondering where Dave went. He peers out of the aisle to find him sitting in a comfortable looking chair, nose buried in a book. Karkat smiles, leaning against the shelf and taking a moment just to watch him. Which is probably creepy as fuck, but whatever.

Dave is… really fucking attractive. Karkat is continuously aware of it, somewhere in the back of his head, but he can mostly forget about it when they’re talking, or there’s a distraction in front of him. But staring at him like this, Karkat is hit with that same sense of awed surprise he felt when seeing Dave’s eyes for the first time. He takes in the line of Dave’s nose and jaw, his pink lips, the slope of his shoulders, his long, slender neck. If Karkat was allowed, he’d go over and pluck the shades from Dave’s face and run his thumb over his high cheekbones.

Part of him wonders if Dave would have even looked twice at him if they weren’t in such a weird situation. Karkat’s not exactly a head-turner, and Dave can do much better than someone like him, even as a friend. Then he feels guilty, because Dave isn’t that shallow.

Besides, Dave seems devoted to convincing Karkat he thinks he’s attractive, for some reason.

His head is getting too mixed up with all these thoughts now. He goes back to grab one of the books he’d written down and drops into the chair besides Dave, pulling his legs up and cracking the spine to start reading.

-

By the time Karkat joins Dave with a book of his own, Dave is so engrossed in his book that he hardly notices Karkat approach.

He gets to a slightly less interesting part of the book, skimming over the words a bit. The stuff with the government and NASA shit back on Earth isn’t nearly as entertaining, but Dave tries to pay attention because it’ll probably be important shit for later. But his mind inevitably wanders. He’s surprised the book held his attention for as long as it did, it’s been a long time since a book was able to.

Oh, shit. He isn’t supposed to be reading, anyway. He should probably put the book back. Why hasn’t Karkat given him shit for reading?

Dave peeks over at Karkat, his wandering eyes hidden by his shades. Karkat’s got his legs pulled up into the chair, nestled in with his book. Dave expected his brow to be furrowed like it always was, maybe even more so as he reads. But instead Karkat’s face is as soft as it is when he’s asleep.

Dave smiles to himself, and then goes back down to his book. His head hasn’t been bugging him at all yet, he can handle a few more pages.

He’s back to the guy on Mars and his narration is always so fucking hilarious. The way he explains things like oxygenators and other space machines actually sounds interesting instead of brain-rotting and boring. Dave gets to a particular part that catches him off guard with it’s comedic timing. The character’s voice is so clear in his head he can actually hear the guy yelling in panic and frustration, and a bubble of laughter bursts out of Dave.

Since his one free hand is also holding the book, Dave brings the book up to his face to cover his mouth, instantly feeling embarrassed for laughing so loudly in this quiet store. Karkat’s looked up from his own book at this rate, and Dave shakes his head and sets the book on his lap. He has to keep his lips pressed together for a moment, out of fear he’ll start laughing after if he opens his mouth.

“Heh...sorry,” Dave whispers.

-

It’s easy to fall into the story of a British prince and the son of the president secretly falling in love. It’s funny, it’s lighthearted, it’s _gay_ , which is a bonus. He’s so absorbed in his book that when Dave laughs he jumps, surprised, and looks up to see Dave looking embarrassed and hiding half his face with his book.

Dave apologizes and Karkat says, “You don’t need to apologize for laughing. I’m glad you’re not bored out of your skull and wreaking havoc and getting us banned. What are you reading?”

The title is emblazoned on the front cover, _The Martian_ , but Karkat wants to hear about it from Dave. He closes his own book, a finger stuck between the pages to save his spot. It’s habit to shuffle the name of the book away in the part of his mind that holds all of his ‘gifts for friends’ ideas.

-

“It’s about this dude who gets stuck on Mars,” Dave explains, “And there’s bits where, like, the NASA people are trying to figure out ways to send him supplies and shit while they work out a way to get him back to Earth. But the bits with the guy—Whitney? Nah, fuck, Watney—are the best parts. It’s all done with him doing these audio logs, which he’s basically doing to not only keep a record for NASA but to keep himself sane because he’s all by himself out there. Anyway, the part I was just reading was about—“

Dave talks animatedly about the book for a little bit, having to make up for the lack of movement his left arm can make by gesticulating wildly with his right. And Karkat sits and keeps his eyes on him the entire time, listening.

Dave told him he was allowed to tune him out, but...seems like Karkat still hasn’t taken him up on that offer. Dave wonders if he ever will, or if he even really wants him to.

“—Anyway, it’s kind of a no-no for me to be reading, right? I’ve been feeling pretty good today but that’s only because I’ve been following the rules and resting a lot. Better not push it. It’s a good book, though. Maybe I’ll see if the library close to my apartment has a copy and check it out when I’m cleared by the doc to read again,” Dave says. He closes the book and sets it down on the table between them. “What’s your book about?”

-

Dave is so _fucking cute_ when he’s talking about things he’s interested in. He makes such wild, ridiculously awkward hand gestures, leans forward, lets the words tumble out of his mouth. Karkat could watch him talk like this for hours. He probably has a dumb, besotted smile on his face, despite trying to keep it blank.

“It sounds interesting,” Karkat says. “And pretty fucking funny. But yeah, we should probably stop for awhile so your head doesn’t start hurting again.”

He glances down at his book, lips twitching up.

“It’s an enemies to lovers novel about the son of the American president and a British Prince,” he says. “They fucking despise each other and they ruin a royal wedding by pushing each other into the wedding cake, then they’re forced to deal with each other to maintain foreign relations. It’s pretty good so far. Very rom-com-y.”

His phone starts vibrating wildly in his pocket again and he sighs. Another wave of texts from his overly-concerned friends. He pulls his phone out and reads them over, then groans.

“Ugh, hold on,” he says, opening the camera app. “My idiot friends are demanding proof you haven’t kidnapped me or some dumb shit.”

He scowls impressively at the camera, putting up his middle finger and making sure the bookstore is visible behind him. He hates taking pictures of himself but if it’s the quickest way to make them fuck off he’ll just have to suffer.

-

Dave gets up while he listens to Karkat explain his book so that he can slip his own back on the shelf where he found it.

“Ooh, shit, that sounds like it’s right up your alley,” Dave says.

He’s about to go and sit back down when Karkat is suddenly pulling out his phone and grumbling about his friends needing ‘evidence’. Dave grins when he sees Karkat flipping off his phone—ohh, shit, is Karkat taking a selfie right now?

Oh, Dave is so getting in on this shit.

Dave scrambles over to Karkat so fast he practically teleports from the bookshelf over to Karkat’s chair. Then he leans down, flashes the camera a big cheesy grin and a peace sign right as the camera click goes off.

-

Karkat stares at the picture for a long moment. His own ugly, angry face, right next to Dave’s handsome one. 

“You’re an ass,” he informs Dave, not looking up from his phone.

They couldn’t be more different, huh? But Karkat doesn’t feel like taking another one, so he saves it to his phone and sends it to his friends. Which is apparently the worst fucking idea in the world, because the next wave of messages is interrogating him about being on a date with the guy he landed in the hospital.

Karkat types out a quick but heartfelt ‘FUCK OFF’ and powers off his phone.

Fuck, goddammit. This isn’t a _date_ , no matter how much he wants it to be. Dave was just bored and tired of being cooped up and Karkat is doing his job looking out for him. That’s all this is.

That doesn’t stop the bright red flush on his face as he stands up.

-

Dave smiles triumphantly as Karkat doesn’t delete the picture or retake another one, sending the one of him and Dave to his friends.

He’s blushing adorably as he gets to his feet, and because Dave is an ass, he uses Karkat’s currently low defences even more to his advantage and yoinks the book Karkat was reading out of his hands.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, “You were pretty into this one, right? I’ll buy it for you. That way you’ve got something to do to entertain yourself when I’m napping or whatever. If you’re all done looking around, let’s bounce. I’m getting kinda hungry.”

Before Karkat can protest, Dave is already trotting back to the staircase, Karkat’s book under his arm.

-

Karkat splutters, entirely caught off guard. What the _fuck_ that’s not _fair_. Karkat’s the one who buys the presents. He sets aside a certain portion of his measly paycheck for the sole purpose of buying his friends shit. It’s weird as fuck to have that turned on him.

He catches up to Dave, which is actually a bit of a feat since the man has mile long legs. He crosses his arms as Dave waltzes up to the checkout counter.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, but he knows there’s no point. Dave seems pretty fucking determined.

Dave buys the book and hands it to him, which he accepts with a small smile. It’s… sweet. 

“Walmart next, I guess,” Karkat says as they walk to the car. “Get you your deodorant and the shit for the s’mores. Do you wanna go somewhere for actual food?”

-

Karkat accepts Dave buying him the book, though he does insist on telling Dave he doesn’t have to, which is stupid. Dave doesn’t have to, but he wants to. Karkat’s been so nice to him, and taking really good care of him, and just been generally really fun to hang out with. So Dave wanted to do something nice for him.

And the little smile Karkat gives him when he takes the book from Dave makes Dave want to buy Karkat a whole fucking library full of books, just so he can see it again.

“Wal-Marts usually have a McDonald’s or some shit in them, right?” Dave says, “At least I know the one back by my place does. I could rock a Big Mac combo right about now.”

-

Karkat wrinkles his nose in disgust but he nods.

“I _suppose_ I could stomach a double cheeseburger,” he says haughtily. Seriously though, fuck McDonald’s. 

It doesn’t take long to reach walmart. It never does in big cities. They pop up every few miles, just like starbucks. 

He leads the way inside, grabbing a basket as he goes. There is a McDonald’s inside, unsurprisingly. “You go pick out your deodorant, I’ll grab the groceries, and we’ll meet back at clown hell?”

Dave agrees and Karkat goes hunting for the perfect s’mores ingredients. He gets two types of marshmallows; the normal kind and some with chocolate stuffed inside. Hershey’s chocolate, of course, and graham crackers, and by the time he makes it back Dave is already waiting for him.

-

Dave beelines it for the health and beauty section, hunts down a spray-on deodorant (hmm, black currant? Sounds cool.) and goes over to self-check out to quickly tap his card and head over to meet up with Karkat at McDonald’s. Karkat isn’t there yet, so Dave sits down beside the Ronald McDonald statue sitting on the bench, muttering “This seat taken?” under his breath as he plops down.

Karkat shows up a few minutes later with a bag full of marshmallows and graham crackers, and Dave gets to his feet and they go and get in line.

“What’d you say you wanted? A double cheeseburger?” Dave asks.

Before Karkat can answer, Dave steps up to the cashier and starts to speak. “Hey, how’s it goin’—can I get a Big Mac combo and a double Quarter Pounder with cheese?”

Dave looks over his shoulder at Karkat.

“Hey, do y’all want a combo too? Or just the burger?”

-

“Just the burger,” Karkat says. “I’ll eat something at home if I get hungry again.”

He fucking hates McDonald’s. He has Opinions on it, from the way they store and cook their food to the way they treat employees to the ice cream machines that are always out of order because they’re never cleaned. His friends have been on the receiving ends of his rants that can go on for hours if he isn’t cut off harshly enough.

He absolutely refuses to go through the McDonald’s drive-thru when he’s behind the wheel, to his friends’ dismay. If they find out about this he’ll never hear the end of it, so they can never know. It’s bad enough they’ve somehow jumped to the conclusion that this is a _date_. Karkat’s going to have to work hard to dispel that notion already.

When they sit down with their meal Karkat pokes at his burger suspiciously. It looks sad and unappetizing, but he takes a bite of it anyway. Greasy and yet still bland. Maybe he should make Dave a decent burger.

-

Dave shrugs when Karkat just asks for the burger, saying “Suit yourself,” and then turning back to the cashier.

They sit down with their food and Dave watches as Karkat unwraps his burger from the paper, scrunching his nose up at it suspiciously. And then he...pokes it.

Dave snorts. “Dude. It’s not like it’s gonna grow legs and skitter off the table.” he says, taking a sip of his soda.

Karkat was kind of a picky eater, huh? Dave had never had the luxury to be picky. McDonald’s was fast and cheap, and saved his ass more often than not in a pinch. First place he went when he found a crumbled bill left behind in the laundry machines in the apartment back in Houston? Mickey Ds, all the way.

Dave unwraps his burger and dumps his fries out onto the paper, and starts mowing down. He takes his time, actually having to tell himself to slow down for once. Karkat’s only got a burger to eat after all, so Dave doesn’t want to scarf down his food before Karkat’s finished his food. Then again he doesn’t want to take his sweet time and have Karkat be finished well before him and then be stuck in this noisy fast-food restaurant/Wal-Mart any longer than he needs to be. So Dave tries to go for a happy medium between eating at just the right speed that they can be done around the same time.

He’s still got a little less than half his drink left when they’re done eating, so he refills it on their way back out to the car. Dave automatically plugs his phone up to the aux cord again. They aren’t far from his apartment now but Dave still refuses to drive without tunes.

https://open.spotify.com/track/33skap4BiiGL1IbIjCmA6L?si=13oKQn6fTPulVfcuzX-9_g

-

Dave eats pretty quickly, finishing almost exactly at the same time as Karkat, which he doesn’t have a problem with. It means they can get out of this capitalist shithole as fast as possible.

Dave puts on another surprisingly cute song as they drive. Is he picking these solely to make Karkat’s heart beat quicker? If he is, it's working.

“Anywhere else you want to stop at before we go home?” Karkat asks in between songs. It’s starting to get dark; they spent quite a long fucking time in that bookstore, goofing around and then just reading, being silent together. It’s a change of pace from the usual chaos that Karkat’s accustomed to. He likes being in Dave’s presence, how it doesn’t feel like he always has to assert himself, be just as fucking loud as everyone else in the room. 

He freezes when he realizes he just referred to Dave’s apartment as home. Oh shit, he did that in the store, too, didn’t he? What is wrong with him? Hopefully Dave didn’t notice.

-

“Nah, it’s getting pretty late—we really know how to fill a day, huh?” Dave says, “but nighttime means it’s...s’moreeeees tiiime,” Dave says the last part in a sing-song voice that is mads uncool, but fuck it.

They get back to Dave’s apartment and Dave takes his new shirts and deodorant back to his room while Karkat puts the s’mores stuff out on the counter. After he drops his purchases off, Dave heads into John’s room and opens up his closet to hunt down Christmas lights.

Thankfully John keeps his shit organized (you kinda have to when living in small spaces like this) and Dave pulls out a box of lights. Looks unopened, even. John must have purchased a new set for next year, maybe the bulbs burnt out on the old set.

There’s already Dave’s blanket out in the living room, but it looks like Karkat hasn’t changed John’s sheets yet. Dave grabs one of the folded sheets he left on John’s computer chair and brings that out, too. Two blankets should be enough for the fort, he supposes.

“Found the lights, and grabbed us another blanket,” Dave says as he enters the living room again.

He takes out Deathly Hallows from the DVD player, and puts it away. Then he switches the mode on the TV to put on Netflix. He leaves it on the home screen then heads into the kitchen.

“So what should we have to drink with the s’mores? More coffee?” Dave asks.

-

“I will never turn down coffee,” Karkat says, surveying the living room. “Generally hot chocolate or milk goes with s’mores pretty well, but if you’re up for coffee so am I.”

He crosses his arms, thinking. “The monopoly board is in the way. I’m gonna have to move the table so we have room; can you pick up all the shit that falls?”

Moving the table isn’t difficult at all, and Dave picks up the cards and bills that flutter off of it. Karkat carefully returns their pieces to their rightful place and does a quick count of the money to make sure Dave hasn’t tried cheating again. 

“You’ve lost my trust, Strider,” Karkat says when Dave scoffs at him. “Go make the coffee, I’m gonna grab your mattress.”

He does just that, dragging the mattress into the living room to place on the floor. He pushes the couch against the wall and considers his options. Dave only gave him two blankets to work with, which is definitely not enough. But he tosses them both over the tv, overlapping a bit, and tucks them under the base to hold them down. They reach about halfway to the couch, and Karkat grabs the cushions off of it to support the sides.

“We’re gonna need more blankets!” he calls.

-

Dave heads into the kitchen to make up a new pot of coffee. While the water in the percolator is boiling, Dave considers what Karkat said about hot chocolate. Dave searches around in the cupboards and...eureka! God bless John Egbert. There’s a box of instant hot chocolate packets at the back of the cupboard, with a few packets left. Nice.

Dave sets a pot on the stove, and gets milk out of the fridge. John told him about this one. Hot chocolate was way better with milk instead of water, and Dave hadn’t been able to drink it any other way since.

As the percolator starts to boil and the milk heats up, Dave turns around to watch as Karkat...absolutely rearranged his living room. Dave grins.

Karkat calls out that they need more blankets so Dave throws him a little salute. “Aye-aye, sir. Watch that my milk doesn’t boil over, would ya? Also, the coffee is ready.”

Dave heads back down the hall and grabs a few more thicker blankets from the linen closet. He throws those over his cast and then heads into his room and grabs the two pillows off his...bed frame, because his mattress is gone now.

Dave heads back out to the living room and dumps the pillows and blankets onto the floor.

“More supplies for the fort, cap’n.”

-

Dave is a giant dork, with his silly little hand motions and calling Karkat _cap’n_. It makes a smile flit onto his face as Dave goes to get more blankets while Karkat keeps an eye on the milk. When Dave returns, Karkat immediately jumps back into his fort-making frenzy.

He drags the end tables over to further support the couch cushions since these blankets are heavier, and finishes connecting the tunnel, trapping the new blankets behind the couch to keep them in place. It’s kind of a pitiful fort, to be honest; nothing like the room-spanning things his mom made for them as children. But it works.

Karkat grabs the lights and unravels them, thinking. He dips into the fort--and yeah, it’s much better on the inside, nice and cozy-- and drapes them over the tv, leading them around the border, resting them on top of the cushions and the bare couch. It’s not as good as hanging them from the blankets, but Karkat doesn’t want to poke holes in Dave’s sheets.

“Where’s your outlet?” Karkat asks, emerging from the fort with the light plug in hand.

-

Dave goes back to the stove and sees that steam is rising from the milk but that it hasn’t started bubbling yet. He takes two packets of the hot chocolate powder and dumps them into the milk. Dave goes over to the fridge, grinning when he sees a bottle of chocolate sauce (which John used when he made pancakes).

“Fuck yeah,” Dave mutters, grabbing the bottle.

He stirs a little of the sauce in with the milk and powder, because making this hot chocolate even more chocolatey did not sound like an issue. Karkat shut off the element the percolator was on, but didn’t seem to pour himself a cup yet.

That was fine by Dave. He seemed to get a strange little sense of satisfaction, being the one to hand Karkat his mug of coffee.

Dave pours Karkat a cup of coffee and himself a cup of hot chocolate. He uses scissors to cut open the bag of regular marshmallows and drops one into his mug. Karkat’s asking about an outlet, so Dave picks up Karkat’s coffee and walks out to the living room.

“It’s just over there, by the shelf,” Dave says, pointing towards the shelf with his chin.

Karkat goes over and plugs in the lights and suddenly the fort is lit up from the inside by multi-coloured lights.

“Alright, I can see the appeal,” Dave says with a nod, “Blanket forts are pretty fuckin’ dope.”

Karkat walks over and Dave holds out his mug, trying not to seem too eager. “Here’s your coffee.”

Karkat takes his mug and Dave heads back into the kitchen to grab his hot chocolate. The marshmallow has melted into the drink a little bit, so Dave takes a sip. Fuuuuck, delicious. He turns around and leans against the counter, a bit of marshmallow foam on the corner of his lip as he smiles at Karkat.

“Alright, lets make some fuckin’ s’mores and then try out that fort.”

-

Dave hands him his coffee, looking hyped up and proud, and it makes Karkat’s heart melt. He takes a sip of the coffee and it’s just as fucking delicious as it was that morning. He tries not to moan. Dave made himself hot chocolate and Karkat wants to lick that bit of marshmallow off his lip with his tongue.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, setting down his mug and following Dave into the kitchen. He grabs a plate, opens the graham crackers, and sets up a little tower of crackers, three pieces of chocolate, and a single puffy marshmallow in the middle.

“So the trick to microwave s’mores is to only put it in for ten seconds at a time,” he explains, popping it in the microwave. “Otherwise the marshmallow expands too much and gets all over the plate.”

It takes a few rounds until Karkat thinks the s’more is melty enough, and he pulls it out and pops another graham cracker on top and passes it to Dave.

“Let it cool for a little bit but don’t wait too long,” he says, getting started on one of his own. When it’s done he grabs his plate and ushers Dave out of the kitchen.

“Let’s get in the fort,” he says, too eager to see Dave’s reaction when he sees the inside. Karkat shoves his plate in, then grabs his mug and the pillows as well, throwing them up near the top of the mattress. 

Oh, fuck, is he going to be using one of Dave’s pillows tonight? That smells like him, instead of his unknown roommate? Karkat is going to have a heart attack.

-

Dave sets his plate and mug at the front of the mattress where Karkat placed the pillows, and then crawls inside beside Karkat.

It’s like they’re not even in the apartment anymore, but in a multicoloured little cloud of quiet comfort, away from everything else. Dave pulls off his shades—which he does a lot around Karkat, he just realized. But Karkat already told Dave he didn’t think his eyes were creepy, so Dave feels okay taking them off around him. Plus, he’s able to really take in the effect of the lights with his shades off.

Dave sets his shades off to the side and lays on his back for a bit, taking it in. He looks over at Karkat and smiles.

“Ten outta ten,” Dave says, “This is one nice-ass blanket fort.”

Dave sits up so he can pick up his plate and try the s’more. He keeps the plate in his lap and leans over it as he takes a large, gooey bite. Graham cracker crumbles apart and drops onto the plate, and marshmallow and chocolate oozes onto his fingers.

Dave sets down the rest of the s’more as he chews through his bite. It’s decadent and sweet from the rich chocolate and super gooey marshmallow, and the graham cracker cuts through it with a crunchy, sweet saltiness.

Dave swallows, licking the marshmallow and chocolate off of his fingers as he leans over to get his mug of hot chocolate. He takes a sip to wash it down, and it’s the perfect compliment to the treat. Dave pulls away from his mug with a sigh, setting the mug back down and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“That,” he says finally, “is fucking deadly.”

-

Dave takes his sweet fucking time looking around the fort and anxiety curls cold in Karkat’s chest. It’s stupid, because it’s just a fucking blanket fort, but Karkat wants Dave to _like_ it, to maybe feel a little bit of the comfort and safety he did when he would curl up with his mom and Kankri before she got sick and Kankri got even more obnoxious.

But Dave’s approval instantly makes him relax and he smiles, glad he can see the lights glimmering in Dave’s lovely eyes. 

The next test is the s’more, which passes with flying fucking colors. Karkat has to watch as Dave licks his fucking fingers, all slow like he’s trying to savor the taste. Karkat quickly takes a bite of his own s’more, a bit too soon, and the burn in his mouth distracts him from the rush of arousal.

“Glad you like it,” Karkat says after he takes a sip of his coffee. “Now you know how, you can make yourself as many as you want.”

Not tonight though. Tonight Karkat will be making the s’mores and passing them off to Dave, because he gets a weird satisfaction out of seeing Dave enjoy the things he makes.

“Do you know what you wanna watch?” Karkat asks, looking at the tv. “I mostly exist in the romcom territory of netflix; I don’t know what else they have to offer.”

-

Dave lies back down and arches his back a little, groaning when it cracks a little.

“You can put on whatever,” Dave says, “if you wanna watch rom-coms, that’s fine by me. But they also just put up a bunch of Ghibli movies, too. Those have pretty good vibes for a blanket fort, I would say.”

Watching a romance movie under a blanket fort with Karkat was way too much like a date. At least Ghibli movies were a little more ambiguous in the genre, and would lend to the This Is Totally Not A Date argument that Dave seems to keep having with himself.

Dave sits up to finish off his treat and wash it down with some more hot chocolate, then settles back down. He looks over at Karkat, who has a bit of smeared melted chocolate on his chin. Dave lets out a little laugh.

Before his brain catches up with his movements, Dave reaches over and wipes the chocolate off of Karkat’s chin with his thumb and then licks the chocolate off of it.

Dave puts his arm down and stares off at the lights. This is still totally not a date.

-

“Oh those are those cute animated ones, right?” Karkat says after he recovers from seeing Dave arch his fucking back. He remembers Dave mentioning that name before. “Let’s watch one of those.”

Before he can even begin to navigate the menu, Dave leans over and in a move straight out of a movie, swipes his thumb across Karkat’s chin and then licks it. Karkat is left staring at him, blushing and wide eyed, as Dave casually acts like he didn’t just make Karkat’s brain implode.

“Thanks,” Karkat squeaks, which is absolutely humiliating. He clears his throat, tears his eyes away from Dave, and puts on the first Studio Ghibli movie he sees, which is something called Ponyo.

He lays back, trying to settle in, but that puts him right up next to Dave, their arms touching, and Karkat’s still flustered as shit. This is feeling more and more like a date and, worse than that, better than any date he’s actually been on. How fucking pathetic is he?

-

Karkat settles in beside Dave and their arms brush together, and Dave feels like he needs to hold his breath because suddenly it feels like his breathing is too loud.

“This one looks cool,” Dave says, “The little girl has like...magical water powers I guess? Or she’s a fish? I dunno. Like I said, I’ve only seen the one where the girl goes to the spirit world. So I guess we’ll both not know what the hell is happening.”

Dave wants to get even closer. He wants to lay his head on Karkat’s chest and have Karkat run his fingers through his hair. He wants Karkat to distract him from finding out a single thing about this movie by kissing down Dave’s neck and running his warm hands up Dave’s shirt. He wants—

Dave grabs his hot chocolate and takes a long sip. Easy, tiger. It’s thoughts like that which would make this Not-A-Date into something hurtling dangerously close towards Actually-A-Date.

As if everything else that had happened already hadn’t done so.

-

Karkat swallows thickly. Dave is so warm against him, and Karkat’s laying next to him in his bed and it smells like s’mores and hot chocolate and coffee. Karkat squirms a little bit, trying to focus on the movie and not on wondering how Dave tastes, if he’d like the feel of Karkat’s weight pinning him down, if he’d talk just as much as always with Karkat pressing kisses down his chest.

Fuck, okay, that’s not working.

“Yeah, I have no fucking idea,” he says. His voice comes out quieter than usual. “The animation is pretty as fuck though.”

It really is; too bad Karkat’s more interested in the boy next to him than the story unravelling on the screen. 

-

How the hell was any of this supposed to help Dave pretend this wasn’t a date?

He just went and had one of the most fun days he can remember having in ages, before his life had turned into the monotony of working and sleeping so he could pay rent. In fact, these last three days have been fucking perfect. Dave has never felt more safe and relaxed and at peace.

And it was all thanks to Karkat.

Karkat, the guy who hit him with his fucking car a few days ago. Who broke his arm and gave him a concussion.

Karkat, who was extra grumpy and had no executive functions in the morning until a coffee was put in his hand.

Karkat, who could keep up with Dave’s rambles, liked Dave’s music enough to want to listen to it while he drove, keep Dave on his toes with hilariously creative insults, and taught Dave how to be more...normal.

And didn’t judge him for not already being normal.

Karkat, who Dave thought was the most drop-dead gorgeous person on the planet the moment Dave laid his eyes on him. Even if he was delirious with a head injury at the time, it didn’t make it any less true.

Karkat...

...who Dave is pretty sure he’s only falling more and more in love with, as the hours go by. With each day they spend together, he finds out a bunch of reasons to like him even more. He wonders if there’s a limit to it, or if it just keeps stretching on and on...

The only kicker is, Karkat isn’t his soulmate. Because Dave can’t have a soulmate. Because Striders don’t believe in soulmates.

Dave wished he lived in a world where all this soulmate horseshit never existed in the first goddamn place. Then he could lean over right now and kiss Karkat as much as he’d been dying to do for these last three days.

But he doesn’t. So he won’t.

-

Dave is being surprisingly quiet as the movie plays out. He doesn’t seem upset or in pain when Karkat glances at him from the corner of his eye. He must be actually paying attention to the movie, like Karkat should be. But his mind keeps getting carried away.

God, he likes Dave so much. It’s been three days and Dave hasn’t gotten sick of him once; hasn’t yelled at him or blown him off or treated him like an inconvenience, even when Karkat deserved those things. He doesn’t seem affected at all by Karkat’s general… Karkatness. Grumpy and angry, a total killjoy, filled to the brim with insults and no filter to keep them out.

And he makes Karkat smile. He makes Karkat laugh. It’s surprising, because even when he’s with his friends he’s still a grumpy piece of shit who brings everyone down by being the voice of reason. Dave doesn’t care, though, and he’s continuously surprised by how _happy_ he feels.

He indulges himself, for a moment. That Dave might feel the same for him. Might like Karkat as more than a friend, might see someone worthwhile when he looks at him, instead of a disappointment. Dave said he sometimes thinks he doesn’t have a soulmate (utter nonsense, how could someone like _Dave_ not be destined for someone great?), but Karkat lets himself imagine what it would be like if he was Dave’s soulmate.

Dave could run his talented fingers through Karkat’s hair at night, helping him fall asleep. Karkat could give him back massages and make him food and nag him to eat. Dave could make coffee in the morning, and Karkat could press sweet, slow kisses to his bare shoulders as the caffeine woke him up. He could press Dave against the counter, or maybe pick him up; it would be so easy, and Karkat would get to squeeze at his ass while peppering kisses across his cheeks.

He’s definitely fucking blushing, god dammit. He sneaks another look at Dave, but he’s still engrossed in the movie. Karkat bites his lip. He nudges Dave lightly.

“Hey, could you uh,” fuck, this is awkward to ask, “play with my hair?”

He could scoot down, rest his head on Dave’s stomach, and pretend to watch the movie while Dave trails tingles across his scalp. Sounds like a perfect end to this Not-Date.

-

Ohhh, thank fucking god.

Yes.

Hell yes.

Hell fucking yes.

“Yeah, homie.” Dave says, lifting up his arm. “Get on over here.”

Karkat scoots even closer, tucks himself under Dave’s arm, and rests his head on Dave’s stomach.

“Maybe we’ll actually get you a full eight hours tonight, huh, Karks?” Dave says, and Karkat can’t see how sappily he’s grinning from down there so he lets it show. “Let Doctor Dave work his magic, I learned from the best physician in the land.”

He wishes he had both hands available, so he could run them both in Karkat’s hair. But he does his best with what he’s got to work with. He twirls Karkat’s curls around on his finger, making them even more pronounced and curly when he pulls his finger away. Dave wants to repeat the motion to every single strand of hair until all of Karkat’s curls are standing out even more.

He runs his fingers from the front of Karkat’s head, over the top, all the way down to the back of his neck. Dave repeats the motion a few times as he mindlessly watches the movie. Then he goes back to twisting his fingers through the curls for a while, then kneads his thumb and index finger in circles from the base of Karkat’s skull, up his head, all the way to his temples.

“Does that, uh, feel alright?” Dave says suddenly, his heart lurching at the sound of his own voice. “Let me know if you, um...want something in particular? I’ll do my best.”

Dave trails his fingers down to Karkat’s ears, repeating again what Karkat did to him the day before. He massages around the shell of his ear in small circles before pinching and rolling down the ear itself between his fingers and thumb.

He still has no fucking idea what this movie is about.

-

Karkat’s eyes flutter shut the moment Dave’s hand touches his hair. He sighs softly, tension he didn’t know he had leaving him. Dave makes a good pillow; Karkat would do this every night if he was allowed.

Dave has picked up a few of Karkat’s tricks, apparently. He doesn’t have the research under his belt like Karkat does, doesn’t know how hard to press in certain spots, but he’s clearly been paying attention because this isn’t just playing with Karkat’s hair, it’s an actual scalp massage. And it feels fucking glorious. 

No wonder people plop down in front of him demanding massages every time he loses at Monopoly. He suddenly has a sneaking suspicion they gang up on him for this particular reason. Those dickbags.

When was the last time Karkat got an entire eight hours of sleep? He can’t remember, but he thinks it might be possible like this.

“No, this is go- _oood_ ,” Karkat says, his last word turning into a moan as Dave tugs at his earlobe, his hand brushing lightly against Karkat’s neck. Sensation shivers down his spine even as color explodes across his face. “Fuck, sorry.”

-

Dave almost freezes when Karkat fucking _moans_ , but he doesn’t want Karkat to think it freaked him out—quite the opposite, in fact. So with slightly shakier fingers than before Dave keeps going with his ministrations, not pausing in them for an instant.

Although he isn’t sure how wise it would be of him to keep making Karkat make those sounds. His head is right by Dave’s dick (and wow, that thought certainly isn’t helping matters) so if Dave pops a boner from another sexy sound Karkat makes, he is fucking toast. His goose is cooked. Karkat could suddenly be unable to see the movie through the tent in Dave’s fucking shorts.

“It’s cool, man,” Dave says, trying to keep his voice steady, “ain’t no sorry.”

-

Dave is too goddamn good. He doesn’t even stop moving his fingers at Karkat’s embarrassing slip up, continuing to play with his ear for a bit, then moving back to his hair. Dave’s fingers are _dangerous_ , and Karkat bites his lip to stop himself from letting out any other noises.

It’s only partially successful. He doesn’t moan again, but there’s no keeping back the sighs that come from Dave twirling his stupid curls around his finger, or the soft, barely-there whimpers when Dave presses at the base of his skull, relieving him of a headache he wasn’t aware was there until it was gone.

“You’re really good at this,” he says. He feels half asleep and buzzing with energy at the same time. “I had to research this shit but you’re a natural. So unfair.”

He presses his head back against Dave’s hand despite his words, which has the dual effect of letting him rub his face against Dave’s soft stomach.

“Dunno how you’re managing my hair,” he mumbles. “Nepeta needed help untangling her hand when she tried to do this.”

-

Dave gives a little shrug. “Thanks. Like I said, I learned from the best. I’m just sorta trying to do to you what you did on me.” he says.

It was sort of like mixing on a soundboard. A little twist over here, a press over there. Constantly changing up the rhythm, or staying consistent when something sounded good.

Except the sounds he was mixing were soft little sighs and little whimpers when Dave dug his fingers into tense muscles.

Fuck. Dave was so fucked.

“It’s not that hard to keep from getting tangled up,” Dave goes on. Maybe talking will help to distract him. And if Karkat talks then he can’t moan. And if Karkat doesn’t moan then Dave can’t get hard.

...Okay, well, there were lots of other ways Karkat could make Dave hard otherwise, but Dave is not fucking thinking about those right now.

“I just sort of brush my fingers through, kinda separate the curls a bit before I do anything else,” Dave goes on, demonstrating as he talks. He brushes his fingers through a thatch of curls, repeating the same smooth, slow motion a few times.

“Then once it’s all brushed out I go in there with some little circle-motion shit,” Dave kneads at the spot with his fingers and thumb, “Which basically musses your hair right back up to the same level it was before I brushed through it. So then I can do what I gotta do without yankin’ your hair out.”

Dave twists one of Karkat’s locks around his finger, and then lets it loose.

“And this,” he says, “I just do ‘cause your curls are cute as fuck and I’m selfishly tryin’ to make them more pronounced.”

-

Karkat is in fucking heaven right now. Dave’s smooth, accented voice washes over him as he talks through his process, filling him up with calm warmth. His eyes remain closed so he can focus more on the feeling and the sound. He gives a pleased hum.

Then Dave calls his curls _cute_ and Karkat buries his face into Dave’s stomach, feeling his own belly swooping like he’s on a rollercoaster. 

“They’re not cute,” he protests against Dave’s shirt, voice muffled. His hair is a wild, unruly mop atop his head. He’s always hated his curly hair. There’s nothing that can be done with it. He’d keep it shaved if that didn’t make him look even worse, somehow.

-

Dave snorts, which jostles Karkat’s head where he has it buried into Dave’s shirt (CUTE). He ruffles Karkat’s hair.

“Shut up, yes they are,” Dave retorts, “I always thought curly hair was super sexy. Yours has this ‘I woke up like this’ vibe. And since I’ve never seen you take a brush to this thing, I can only assume that you very much do wake up like this.”

Dave trails his fingers down the back of Karkat’s neck, and then rubs at the shoulder that he can get at from this position. Then he runs the pads of his fingers along the side of Karkat’s neck and back up to his ear. He tucks some of Karkat’s curls behind his ear, and then follows the trail over his ear and down to the nape of Karkat’s neck, where he brushes again at Karkat’s hair, letting his nails run along his skin. With Karkat’s face turned more towards his stomach, he’s able to get at the back of his neck more.

-

Ohhhh fuck ohfuckohfuckohfuck

Karkat gasps as Dave’s fingers traverse his neck, light and soft. Why does his neck have to be so fucking sensitive? It’s so much and it feels so good and Karkat is half fucking hard, oh god.

And he thinks curls are _sexy_? _Karkat’s_ curls? He can’t wrap his head around it. The last girl he dated hated his hair almost as much as he did--hated _him_ almost as much as he did, actually, which is probably why they got along so well at first. 

“Y-you don’t want to see what my hair looks like after I take a brush to it.” It takes all his effort to keep his voice from shaking. He could pull away, claiming that Dave is tickling him, but instead he tucks his chin, lengthening his neck to give Dave more area to touch to his heart’s content. 

If Dave keeps this up Karkat is going to be drooling open-mouthed into his shirt while he desperately humps the mattress, but Karkat doesn’t have the strength to tell him to stop.

-

Dave lets out a little laugh as he starts to rub slow circles into the base of Karkat’s skull.

“Hah...probably puffs right out and looks like a ‘fro, right?” Dave says, “my hair is so thin and boring, the most annoying thing is keeping my hair outta my eyes when I get too lazy to go get a trim.”

He lets his fingertips drift up and down the back of Karkat’s neck, a featherlight touch, back and forth.

“I probably wouldn’t look even a quarter as good as you did if I had curly hair, though,” Dave says, “I thought about dying my hair hair black a few times.”

To make him look less like Bro.

“That probably wouldn’t suit me much, neither.” Dave says softly, “But you pull it off. Got the whole big, dark and handsome thing going on.”

Oh fuck. It wasn’t like Dave hasn’t called Karkat attractive, and used every other name in the book to describe his looks. But he’s pretty sure it’s his first time calling him handsome.

Dave feels colour fill his cheeks, and presses his lips together before he says anything further. He keeps running his fingertips along Karkat’s neck.

-

He’s desperately trying to keep his breathing even. He should stop this, right? This was… This is taking advantage, isn’t it? It feels like there’s a direct connection from everywhere Dave touches right down to his dick, and Dave didn’t sign up for this.

“You look like a f-fucking model,” Karkat says, stuttering as Dave’s fingers move back down from his hair to his neck. “Could probably pull off anything.”

He’s starting to feel overstimulated, his skin tingling all over, but he still doesn’t pull away. Dave thinks he’s _handsome_??? Karkat looks like the kind of guy you cross the street to avoid even on a sunny day in the middle of the afternoon, but Dave is calling him _handsome_. 

He does his best to keep it down but a tiny whine escapes him. God he’s embarrassing.

-

Ohhhh fuck. The noises Karkat’s making are fucking _dangerous_ but Dave still can't bring himself to stop.

Be cool, Strider, be fucking cool.

Don’tgetharddon’tgetharddonotgetHARD—

“Aw, Kitkat,” Dave says, trying to keep his light and playful even as his ears burn dark red. “You’re only saying all these nice things about me ‘cause I’m playing with your hair.”

It still made Dave’s heart race. Karkat thought he looked like a model? Dave was a marshmallow with four toothpicks stuck into it.

“But, thanks anyway,” he says, “I think I’ll stick with the blonde, though. The roots would look stupid growing in, for one thing. And I’ve been told they have more fun.”

There’s all kinds of fun Dave wants Karkat to help him have. Dave closes his eyes for a moment.

Dead babies. Old lady toenails. Li’l Cal.

Okay, boner crisis averted. For now. Until Karkat moans again. Fuck.

-

Dave calls him _Kitkat_ and that should piss him off and ruin this, but now he’s completely hard in his jeans and Dave is still dragging light touches all over his neck. Karkat can feel himself starting to tremble, a combination of Dave’s hand and voice and just how much Karkat _likes_ him, and oh fuck, he can’t take any more of this without giving himself away.

He sits up, twisting away so Dave can’t see the tenting of his pants, and roughly says, “Gotta use the bathroom.”

He awkwardly scoots out of the fort, taking in big, gulping breaths of air as he walks down the hall, trying to clear his head. He closes and locks the bathroom door and puts the toilet lid down, burying his head in his hands and tugging at his hair.

What is he _doing_? That was so fucking not okay. That was creepy and manipulative and gross, and the worst thing is that he’s _still fucking hard_.

It’s going to take too long to go away without Dave getting suspicious. Fuck. He gives his hair another harsh tug, then reaches down to undo his jeans. He never changed out of them, too eager to make a blanket fort for Dave.

He wraps a dry hand around his dick and shoves the other in his mouth to muffle any noise he may make, since apparently he can’t shut the fuck up. He sets a ruthless, angry pace, and he’s so fucking wound up--just from Dave touching his neck--that it takes barely any time at all before he’s cumming, spilling over his fingers with muffled grunts. 

He’s left with his softening cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans, panting around the fingers in his mouth as cum drips from his hand, and all he can think about is how much better it would be with Dave.

He cleans himself up. Wipes his jizz up off the floor, washes his hands, splashes water on his face. He stops by the bedroom to change into pajamas, and by the time he’s entering the blanket fort again he’s well prepared to pretend none of that ever fucking happened.

-

Karkat suddenly sits up, and Dave blinks rapidly in surprise. Karkat mutters something about the washroom, however, and gets out of the fort. Dave crawls out of the fort and pauses the movie, then cleans up their dishes, stacking everything up and taking it over to the sink.

Man, the dishes were really piling up. Dave wishes he could get to them himself, but it’s not exactly easy with one arm handy, and another that can’t get wet.

Dave decides that while Karkat’s in the washroom, he’ll change into some pyjamas. He walks down the hall and passes by the washroom, where he can hear...

Was that grunting?

Huh. Well, they did eat McDonald’s.

Dave continues down the hall to his room and unbuttons his shirt, which is a bit easier to accomplish than doing it up. He’s glad some of the shirts he got at the thrift store today had those snap buttons instead. That should be a lot easier.

Dave shucks out of the shirt and then his shorts, kicking them over by his hamper. He pulls out some pyjama bottoms and does his usual sit-down method to tug them on.

It’s kind of warm in the blanket fort, and he can’t get on a T-shirt without assistance anyway, so Dave opts to go shirtless again. He heads back out to the living room and sees that Karkat’s back in the fort waiting for him, and he’s changed into pyjamas himself.

“Looks like we had the same ide—ohfuck—“

Dave is cut off as he yelps a bit as his awkward three-legged crawl back into the fort makes his knee catch awkwardly on the tangled blanket, making Dave go pitching forward.

-

Karkat is incredibly grateful for his little bathroom jerk-off session, because when Dave returns to the fort not only is he shirtless but he also manages to clumsily launch himself forward, sprawled half across Karkat.

Karkat sits up so fast his head spins, but he pays it no mind as He wraps an arm around Dave’s waist and puts a hand on his shoulder to hoist him into a sitting position.

“Are you okay?” he frets, looking Dave over. His face isn’t pinched in pain, and when Karkat moves his cast he doesn’t wince. “For fuck’s sake, Dave, you’re so damn accident prone. How are you even alive?”

It’s then that he realizes he’s still got an arm around Dave’s very naked waist, and they’re only inches apart. Karkat chews on his lip as he releases him, mumbling out a, “sorry.”

-

Dave lands on top of fucking Karkat, because of course he does. Was this his punishment for making a ‘blondes have more fun’ joke? Or was it just the general ‘being mads horny for his friend’ thing? God fucking dammit.

Karkat’s up in a flash and scooping Dave up into his arms and pulling him up and asking if he’s okay—and Dave can’t think of an answer because fuck Karkat’s so warm. His hands feel like fire on Dave’s bare skin. Dave should not have gone shirtless this was a fucking mistake.

Then Karkat lets go, looking away dejectedly and murmuring out an apology as Dave blinks at him. Why was Karkat apologizing? For calling him accident prone? Dave doesn’t give a shit; besides it was kind of true. He kinda had a penchant for it.

Or was Karkat referring to him touching Dave?

Dave doesn’t mind that, either.

“Uh, yeah, I’m okay.” Dave says, “Thanks for the save, Karks.”

Dave sits back on his heels and scratches at his nose.

“Uh...if you touching me bothered me I...wouldn’t have let you give me all those massages. And I certainly wouldn’t have sat in your lap.” Dave mumbles, shuffling his legs a bit and looking anywhere but at Karkat. “I don’t really know why. I don’t really feel this way about anyone. I’ve known John since I was thirteen and he and I have hugged maybe once. And he initiated it. And it was awkward as all hell and we swore to never talk about it again. Which I guess I just broke by mentioning it now. Anyway, my point is—you’re...for some reason, you’re different.”

Oh, god, why is he saying all this?

_Because Karkat needs to know how much of a fucking exception to the rule he is for you. That’s how important he is._

“You’re just...uh...” Dave bites at his lip. Pushes his hair out of his eyes. Scrubs at his nose. Does anything except speak.

“You’re safe.” Dave says quietly, practically in a whisper. “So, it’s fine. I don’t...I don’t mind when you do it because...because it’s you.”

-

How is Karkat meant to _not_ fall in love with this beautiful, perfect boy in front of him. Dave tells him he’s fucking special, that he doesn’t let people touch him but he doesn’t mind when _Karkat_ does it, and Karkat feels even guiltier for taking advantage of his trust.

“Okay,” Karkat breathes out. He tries to gather his thoughts. Dave sounds so vulnerable, like all of him is on display for Karkat to judge.

“I… think I may have mislead you,” he admits, shifting slightly. “When I said I give my friends massages and shit. I do, but they usually sit on the floor in front of me. They don’t… sit in my lap and fall asleep there.”

He’s blushing. He’s blushing so hard his head is starting to hurt. 

“I don’t really let people do that shit,” he says. “I mean, I might if it was Nepeta but she knows better. And Terezi will sometimes climb all over people when she’s drunk but that’s because she’s a fucking weirdo. One time Vriska was being a bitch and tried to sit in my lap--it’s a long story, don’t ask--and I just. Stood up and sent her ass toppling to the ground.”

Fuck, he’s getting distracted.

“I mean, my point is that you’re… different, too, I guess.” Eye contact is hard. He can’t manage it, instead looking pointedly at one of the light bulbs strung up in the fort. “It’s nice.”

-

“Misled me?” Dave echoes, confused. “How would it be misleading me just because I’m—different.”

Karkat looks at him, and Dave wants to look away from that deep, searching stare. But he also never wants to look away, either. So he doesn’t.

“I don’t know why it’s different, but...” Dave searches for the words for a moment, “I know I’ve softened up a bit since I got out of Houston, but I’ve never...never vibed with anyone this fast before. I’ve been having a lot of fun spending time with you these last couple of days.”

Dave scoots himself over to sit where he was before and presses his arm against Karkat’s. “I didn’t think I had it in me to click this fast with anyone, let alone some dude who hit me with a car. But, it’s like...I look at you and...it’s like, inevitable. Maybe even—imperative that we...that we’re friends.”

_I feel like I was pulled to you like an opposing magnet._

_It feels like—_

Maybe actually vocalize some of these thoughts, Dave.

“It feels like I’ve known you all my life.”

-

 _That we’re friends_. God, fuck. He is not going to become one of those Nice Guy stereotypes. He absolutely refuses to be like fucking _Eridan_. Dave wants to be friends and that’s more than enough for Karkat. He’ll get over this stupid fucking crush and they’ll be fucking _besties_ or whatever the fuck.

“I feel like that too,” Karkat says. He forces a little smile on his face. “Like we’ve known each other forever. I’m sorry I hurt you but I’m glad we met. I hope we can keep being friends once this is over.”

Once Karkat isn’t forcibly inserted into his life anymore. Maybe his crush will fade with distance. It doesn’t seem likely but Karkat clings to the hope. 

-

 _Once this is over_.

Yeah. Right. Once this week is over, Karkat won’t have to stay. In fact, Dave’s already feeling a lot better, and it’s only the third day. What if Karkat doesn’t stay the whole week once he sees that Dave’s condition has improved so much?

Maybe Dave should pretend to be extra sick tomorrow. He could say he pushed himself too hard, going out today.

What the fuck was he thinking, he couldn’t do that. That would just make Karkat feel so fucking guilty, for one thing. And for another, it was super fucking shitty to fake a fucking illness. He already pulled that shit before, faking that headache. He isn’t about to do it again.

Karkat still wants to stay friends after this, so it’s not like Dave is never going to see him again. Dave will just need to be grateful that Karkat is even here in the first place and be happy with whatever time he does have left to be with him like this.

Dave leans his head on Karkat’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he says softly, “I’d like that.”

-

Karkat’s hand automatically comes up to stroke Dave’s hair as his head rests against Karkat’s shoulder. He tries not to feel guilty about it. Dave _likes_ when he touches him, because Karkat feels _safe_ to him. He’ll just have to watch himself more closely, and not let Dave play with his hair again. 

“You need me to help with your head again?” Karkat asks, carefully scritching at Dave’s scalp. “You already helped with mine.”

-

Dave hums, closing his eyes. “Don’t have a headache, but...still would be nice.” he says quietly.

Karkat’s fingers stroke through his hair slowly, his nails scratching at Dave’s scalp, pulling a sigh out of him as he settles against Karkat’s shoulder. “Let me know if you’re having trouble getting to sleep. And I’ll try it again.” Dave says.

He’d really like to keep playing with Karkat’s hair. Even if it was dangerous. Just because Karkat wanted to remain friends once this was over didn’t mean that they would keep up this mutual agreement of helping the other out like this. They’d probably settle into something more believably platonic over time.

So until then, Dave will take whatever he can get.

-

Dave is so fucking _kind_ , offering to help him get sleep. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest.

“Sure,” he lies.

He gently pushes Dave away.

“Hold on,” he says. He grabs both the pillows and props them up against the couch, then gets settled against them, sitting up, and gestures Dave over. “C’mere.”

It’s similar to how they were before, with Dave pressed to his chest while they were on the couch, but now Karkat isn’t uncomfortably squished with his arm pinned to his side. He uses both hands to tug Dave against him and starts digging his hands into his shoulders. It’s still a bit of an awkward angle but he doesn’t mind.

“Tell me if I use too much pressure,” he instructs again. He glances up at the screen and admits, “I have no fucking idea what’s happening in this movie.”

-

Karkat readjusts them to a similar position to how they were on the couch the other day, and Dave is not about to complain about getting to press his back up against Karkat’s warmth again.

Dave squirms and lets out a pleased little groan as he presses back into Karkat’s broad, warm chest and his large, hot hands. His eyes slip closed for a moment, a contented smile on his face. When Karkat mentions the movie he pops an eye open with a thoughtful hum.

“I guess she’s a magic goldfish? Although...now her head looks like a frog and she just grew...chicken legs. Hm, maybe those were supposed to be frog legs? Whatever, it’s still weird. But that’s Ghibli for you.” Dave murmurs, and then closes his eyes again.

He brings up his hand and puts it over Karkat’s fingers, leaning his head to the side. “A little lower, on this side? It can really feel tight in my shoulder blade, thanks to the cast.”

-

Karkat frowns. He doesn’t want to make Dave move again, not after he just tugged him around like a ragdoll and got him settled between his legs, but…

“Let me go get my massage oil,” he says, pushing Dave up and wiggling out from behind him. “Stay there.”

He goes and retrieves one of the bottles--vanilla scented--and stops off to grab a washcloth to wipe off the excess when he’s done and some water for them both as well. 

He scoots back behind Dave after entering the fort once more. He should be more organized. He pops the lid and squirts some of the oil onto his hand and sets the bottle aside. He rubs it between his hands before placing them on Dave’s back, running gently over bumpy scars and skin splattered with freckles.

He focuses on Dave’s left shoulder blade, but makes sure he runs his hands all over, up and down his back. Along his spine and the sensitive dip of his lower back, putting less pressure there and slowly moving up. He tries not to be too obvious about rubbing his fingers into the scars, but they’re kind of all over the place. Besides, massage is good for scars, right? Maybe he should give them more attention.

-

 _Don’t leave your back open_.

How many times had that been drilled into him.

Right after the cold steel of a blade slashed across his back, of course.

Those ones were always the trickiest to get to, afterwards. And after he turned six, Bro stopped helping him patch them up. He wasn’t able to treat a lot of them properly, so they healed dark and rough. Making the skin on his back marred and ugly.

 _Don’t leave your back open_.

Dave closes his eyes as Karkat’s hand moves from his shoulder blade, then down at his lower back before moving slowly up his spine. His thumbs run along sensitive scar tissue, making Dave’s eyelids flicker. It doesn’t hurt, it just feels...weird. To feel someone actually touching them.

They’re all too similar to be from a bunch of different injuries, like anyone else marked up by this many scars might be. A dog bite, a road rash from a bad fall off a bike, getting stabbed by a fish hook after a crappy cast, a surgery...people had lots of reasons to have all the scars they had.

Dave’s all had different stories, too. But they all started the same way.

He tries not to think about it. Karkat hasn’t stopped touching him, so he wasn’t disgusted by it. Or maybe he was, and he was just being kind about it.

Dave opens his eyes, his gaze far away. The massage feels good, but it’s like he can’t fully bring himself to enjoy it.

_Don’t leave your back open._

Dave closes his eyes again, and tries to push Bro’s cold voice—colder than his steel—out of his mind.

-

Dave isn’t saying anything. Which isn’t unusual, in this situation; he tends to get nice and quiet when Karkat does this. But he’s not reacting at all. There are no quiet sighs or little hums, no whines as Karkat digs his thumbs into a knotted muscle. If Karkat couldn’t feel it beneath his hands he wouldn’t even think Dave is breathing.

But he also hasn’t told Karkat to stop. Maybe he’s just really into the movie.

Karkat lets his hands drift higher, back up to Dave’s neck and shoulders, giving him a reprieve from Karkat feeling up what were probably sensitive areas. Emotionally, if not physically. And Dave said he doesn’t really let people touch him. Karkat feels blown away by the show of trust. 

“My mom was a blanket fort master,” he says out of the blue. He doesn’t have a tragic past the way Dave does, but he rarely ever talks to people about his mother. It’s not exactly an even trade, but it’s what Karkat’s got. “She’d let us help set up these elaborate forts for our birthdays. Well, we didn’t actually help much. Mostly we ran around being obnoxious and making a mess. But she’d turn the whole house into a fort and dad would always be so fucking exasperated but at the end of the day she’d drag his ass in with us and we’d watch movies.”

He sighs. Was there a point to this? Is he being an asshole, talking about how great his mom was when he knows Dave had a shitty childhood?

“I haven’t made a blanket fort like this since I was fucking… what? Nine? Ten?” he blows some hair out of his eyes as he presses his thumbs to the base of Dave’s skull. “My dad tried to do one for us after she died but it was just depressing as shit, so I never bothered again until now.”

-

When Karkat suddenly begins to speak out of nowhere, Dave’s eyes pop back open. Karkat was telling him more about his mother?

It seemed like such a sensitive topic for Karkat. Probably his most sensitive, in fact. When Dave tried to tell him sorry for his loss, Karkat’s response was a simple _it was a long time ago._

Dave knew better than anyone that there are some things even time couldn’t heal.

He supposed his tension was obvious. He was being uncharacteristically quiet and Karkat could probably feel new tension coiling up in Dave’s back faster than Karkat could knead it away. Maybe he was bringing up his mother as a way to get Dave to regale him with his own tragic backstory.

Dave lets out a soft sigh.

“She sounds like she was a real nice lady,” Dave says, “Uh...this feels like it’s all pretty close to home for you, so...thanks for letting me be a part of it, I guess.”

Dave plays with a frayed string on Karkat’s pyjamas, his eyes downcast. He presses his lips together and closes his eyes for a moment, feeling his heart start to pound harder.

“...My Bro...would strife with me.” Dave forces out.

He’s quiet for a moment, and the words reverberate off the walls and slam back into him. His brain screams at him _shut up, shut UP you IDIOT, you’re going to ruin EVERYTHING—_

Dave opens his eyes, taking his hand away from the string on Karkat’s pants. He only managed to make it bigger. Dave turns his hand palm up and stares down at it for a while.

“See that?” Dave says, holding up his hand so Karkat can see his palm over his shoulder, “You don’t get callouses like that from your older brother showing you how to play guitar, that’s for sure.”

Dave drops his hand back into his lap.

“It’s from sword-fighting,” Dave mutters, “that’s where all of it came from.”

-

Dave isn’t looking at him so Karkat doesn’t bother trying to school his expression into something less horrified. What kind of batshit crazy monster fights a child with a sword? 

Karkat’s hands have gone still, resting lightly on Dave’s shoulders as he processes this new information. He feels overwhelmed with rage and pity, and it takes him too fucking long to speak without fear of his voice shaking.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Karkat says. “But thank you for telling me.”

He hesitates, unsure if he should continue with rubbing Dave’s back or if Dave wants space.

“Is it okay?” he asks. “Should I keep going?”

-

Karkat’s hands go still on Dave’s shoulder and Dave feels his blood go cold.

He braces himself, waiting for Karkat to push him away, to get up and leave. To call him a freak, to call him pathetic—

No, no, Karkat wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t—

_Don’t leave your back open._

Bro tried to warn him. Don’t let anyone too close. Don’t be vulnerable. Don’t ever leave your back open—because that’s what gets stabbed first.

Dave doesn’t realize he’s been squeezing his eyes shut until they fly back open when Karkat finally speaks.

And he’s not pushing him away. He’s… _thanking_ Dave for telling him. Asking for _permission_ to keep touching Dave.

It’s like an elephant has been stepping on him for years and just now has finally lifted up it’s leg and took its weight off of Dave’s chest. Dave takes in what feels like the first full breath he’s taken all his life.

“I’ve never told anyone that,” he says softly, “Not even John knows.”

Dave twists himself around so that he can lean his side against Karkat’s chest, tucking his head under Karkat’s chin and burying his face into the space where his neck and shoulder meet.

“You can keep going,” Dave mumbles.

-

Dave hasn’t even told John, his best friend. Karkat’s heart beats loud and fast as Dave twists to curl against him. Karkat slips a hand around his waist, tugging him closer and leaning back against the pillows propped up by the couch.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says carefully. He doesn’t know how to convey how fucking touched he is, that Dave has trusted him with such carefully guarded information. Karkat doesn’t feel worthy of it, but he accepts it anyway, because he thinks maybe Dave needs him to.

Karkat’s thumb rubs gentle circles into Dave’s skin with the hand wrapped around his waist, while the other explores his back. Not massaging, really, not anymore. Instead letting his fingers slide lightly up and down, tracing the bumps and indents of old scars. He nuzzles the underside of his jaw along the top of Dave’s head.

“Your brother was a fucking monster,” he says. Maybe he shouldn’t push, just let the silence settle back in, but he needs to make sure that Dave knows. “You didn’t deserve anything that bastard did, I hope you know that.”

-

 _Your brother was a fucking monster_.

Dave’s never told anyone about Bro, or the things he did. What Dave’s childhood was like, living under his roof. Beneath his thumb. His _blade_.

So he’s never had anyone to tell him that what his brother did to him was wrong. That it was no way to raise a child. That it wasn’t training, and certainly not tough love.

It was abuse.

And the fact that Karkat is saying it only cements it even deeper, only makes the statement ring more true. It’s like Karkat swung at a gong and the reverberation is still making Dave’s brain rattle.

_You didn’t deserve anything that bastard did._

Dave’s eyes sting.

Fuck.

Fuck.

It’s too late to stop it. The floodgates were opened from the moment Dave confessed. His eyes prickle, his throat burns. Dave turns his head to bury his face even deeper into Karkat’s neck and shoulder.

He leaves a wet smudge on Karkat’s shirt.

-

Oh fuck, Karkat made Dave _cry_. He should have left it alone. He’s such a piece of shit. 

Dave doesn’t make any noise when he cries. His shoulders shake and Karkat can feel wetness on his neck, soaking into his shirt, but he doesn’t make a sound. Karkat squeezes Dave tight, his hand coming up to pet at Dave’s soft hair.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have kept my fucking mouth shut. I never know when to shut the fuck up.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out on a shaky exhale. From what Karkat’s gathered, he doubts Dave was ever allowed to cry. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe he needs this.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly. “Let it out.”

-

No crying.

Stop crying.

Striders don’t cry.

Stop crying.

Stop FUCKING crying.

Don’t let him hear you. Don’t make a sound.

Karkat’s apologizing.

— _should have kept my fucking mouth shut—_

—shut the fuck up—

Shut the fuck up.

Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a sound. He’ll hear you. He’ll hear you. He’ll hear you.

_It’s okay._

_Let it out._

It’s okay?

Dave is still trembling. His shoulders start to shake even more, he can’t control it—

Dave squeezes his eyes shut as his shoulders continue to shake, and he realizes that he isn’t shaking from trying to hold back the tears or the sobs, but he’s—

He’s _laughing._

“What—what the fuck, man?” Dave says through a wet laugh.

He shakes his head, pulling away from Karkat’s shoulder. His eyes are wet but not a single tear has rolled down his face, and he’s got a small, wry smile on his face.

“How come you can just—say shit like that...like it’s just that _easy_?”

-

Karkat is not sure what’s happening. Dave is smiling and laughing like Karkat didn’t just shove his foot so far down his own throat he’ll be shitting leather for weeks. Like he doesn’t have tears in his eyes and Karkat’s sweater isn’t wet with them.

“What?” he says dumbly. “Say what?”

That he’s a fucking idiot who can’t shut his mouth even though it clearly causes more harm than good? That comes with the territory of self-hatred that Karkat’s good and claimed. 

Oh, or the crying thing. He’s probably talking about that.

“That it’s okay to cry?” he asks, mouth twisting down. “Crying is a fucking natural process people go through when they have too many emotions to handle, dipshit. It’s a way of releasing all that pent up bullshit and getting your brain balanced again.”

-

Dave stares at Karkat, blinking rapidly. Then, he breaks out into exasperated laughter, until he’s shaking so hard he has to slump forward and bump his forehead on Karkat’s shoulder.

“You don’t get it,” he says, a weak chuckle in his voice, “I don’t—I don’t _do_ that. Like, ever. Maybe when I was alone, when I was a kid. But definitely not now. And _especially_ not in front of someone.”

This was just getting plain freaky. Karkat basically came in with a sledgehammer and shattered down every last one of Dave’s walls. The one he’d spent all his life building up, slathering plaster to them over and over until they were thick and impenetrable.

But Karkat was able to find the one tiny window Dave had built into those walls. He was able to see inside of him and pull out the most raw, vulnerable parts of Dave and show him the sunlight for the first time.

“With you, it’s just...easy,” Dave says quietly, “Like the fact it’s you saying it means I could actually start to believe it.”

-

“You don’t cry? Ever?” 

The idea is absolutely baffling. Karkat cries like a little baby at every sad movie ever. He’s seen every single one of his friends break down into tears at some point or another, though admittedly alcohol is involved occasionally. How much weight does that put on a person, never crying? How much does Dave have bottled up?

The question is immediately forgotten when Dave says that it’s because it’s _him_ , Karkat, like he’s someone special. It fills Karkat up with pride, but he can’t quite bring himself to believe it. It’s more likely that Dave’s never been treated with decency before, that he’s clinging to the first person to show him any.

Even though he has John, his best friend. Who he never told about his scars.

Ugh, he can’t keep thinking himself in circles like this. He has a wonderful boy in his arms and he’s not even appreciating it. Karkat returns to dragging his fingers up and down Dave’s back.

“I’ll say it until it sinks in, then,” Karkat decides. “There’s nothing wrong with crying, Dave. I cry over every-fucking-thing. I have to bring tissues to the theaters because I _will_ be sobbing in the back row and if anyone tries to shush me I will lunge over the seats and rip their throat out.”

Or give them a dirty look and bitch them out until he’s forcibly removed from the theater. Whichever.

-

Dave feels his shoulders go slack as Karkat starts to run his fingers up and down his spine. He rests his cheek on Karkat’s shoulder, enjoying how he can feel the vibration whenever Karkat speaks.

Karkat’s a crier? Really? Dave’s never seen him cry. Sure, Karkat was emotional, maybe kind of moody, but Dave had never seen him shed a tear.

Karkat wasn’t weak. He was probably the strongest person Dave had ever met. The idea of him crying seemed like such an alien concept to Dave. It just didn’t line up.

“Pfft,” Dave gives a weak little scoff, and nuzzles his nose into Karkat’s neck. “You crying? That’s something I gotta see to believe. Can’t believe you saw me cry first. I’ll never live this down.”

If Bro could see him now...

No. No, don’t think about Bro. Bro isn’t here. Karkat is here. Karkat, who’s warm and safe and tells Dave impossible, ludicrous things like _it’s okay to cry._

“I can’t say I’ll be making a habit out of it,” Dave says, “But if you need someone to hold your tissue box for you, I’m your dude.”

-

Karkat rolls his eyes. “You don’t have anything to live down, moron. No one’s making fun of you for it.”

Dave nuzzles into Karkat’s neck and it sends a pleasant tingle across his skin. Letting Dave anywhere near his neck is dangerous as hell, as he previously discovered. He doesn’t do anything to jostle him away from the area, though.

“If you wanna see me cry just put on Marley and Me,” he says. “Or The Notebook. I’m an ugly crier, though, so be prepared for that.”

Karkat’s an ugly everything, but he doesn’t say so. Dave would jump into assuring him that he’s, against all logic, actually attractive, and this isn’t about that.

-

“It’s not like crying is exactly elegant,” Dave says, “Eyes all bloodshot, nose all runny. Crying is gross. If someone looked pretty doing it then I guess they ain’t doing it right.”

Dave doesn’t agree with his own sentiment, really. Because nothing Karkat could do would ever be ugly, not to Dave, at least. He keeps that one to himself, however.

-

Karkat smiles. It’s surprising but nice how Dave can make him feel better about shit he didn’t even know was bothering him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. He rubs his head into Dave’s hair. “The movie’s over. Do you want to watch something else or try to sleep?”

Are they going to be sleeping next to each other tonight? Karkat doesn’t know why this didn’t occur to him earlier. It shouldn’t be a big deal, since Dave fucking slept in his lap already, but the idea of laying side by side, or even spooned around Dave makes his heart skip a beat. Not that there will be spooning. In fact there probably won’t be, but that doesn't stop the image from planting itself firmly in his brain.

-

Dave turns to look around and sure enough, the credits are rolling. He reaches over for the remote and shuts off the TV, tosses the remote away and tucks his head back against Karkat’s neck.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” Dave says, “I’m fine to crash out here, so don’t worry about moving my mattress back.”

Dave pulls away to give Karkat a little smile. “And you can stay, too, if you want. I’m not gonna kick you out of the blanket fort you made, that’d be a real dick move. You can make sure I don’t roll over in my sleep and crush my arm.”

-

Right, okay. Turning this into a real sleepover. 

“Thanks,” Karkat says, hoping the nervousness doesn’t leak into his voice. He shouldn’t be fucking nervous. “I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t further injure yourself.”

Dave smiles at him but he doesn’t move away. It takes an unreasonable amount of time for Karkat to realize that it’s likely because he still has him by the waist. He reluctantly withdraws his arm. “Sorry.”

He reaches back to grab one of the pillows and gently smacks Dave with it, hitting him in the back. 

“If you weren’t concussed I’d suggest a pillow fight,” Karkat grins. “Maybe another time.”

He clenches his teeth. He thinks that by this point they’re well past acquaintances and into friends who actually want each other around, but that doesn’t mean that this closeness will remain once this is over. Maybe when Dave has some room to breathe, away from Karkat, he’ll realize just how fucking exhausting being friends with him really is. There probably won’t be anything resembling this situation once the week is over.

-

“Oh, just you wait, as soon as this cast is off it’s on, fucker.” Dave says with a grin.

He gives Karkat’s arm a little shove in retaliation, and then carefully gets himself out of the blanket fort.

“I’m going to brush my teeth so that my morning breath doesn’t knock you into a coma tomorrow,” Dave says, getting to his feet.

He brushes his teeth and then Karkat takes a turn in the washroom getting ready for bed and Dave gets himself situated back beneath the blanket fort. He readjusts the pillows so they’re back on the mattress, one for each of them. Dave reclines and pulls the blanket up over himself one-handed, then shuffles around awkwardly on his back trying to find a comfy position.

As Karkat is crawling back into the mattress, Dave is staring up at the blanketed ceiling of the fort, frowning.

“I miss sleeping on my stomach,” Dave grouses, “Back-sleeping is the fucking worst.”

-

When Karkat comes back to the fort, Dave is on his back, squirming around and pouting. It’s adorable.

“I don’t know how you sleep on your stomach,” Karkat says. “I usually sleep on my side unless I’m too fucking tired to roll over.”

He reaches out and brushes some of Dave’s hair off of his forehead, huffing out a laugh, then lays down. He turns onto his side, facing Dave and taking in his handsome profile. He doubts he’ll be able to sleep, but he has his phone on him. When Dave passes out he’ll busy himself with reading or talking to his more irresponsible friends.

-

Dave looks over as Karkat reaches over and brushes hair out of his face, feeling his heart squeeze. Karkat’s reclined on his side, his hand propping his head up as he looks down at Dave warmly. He doesn’t look even remotely tired.

“Do you...want me to play with your hair again?” Dave asks, “I could do it until you fall asleep.”

-

He should say no. He already took advantage of Dave’s kindness before and he still feels fucking awful about it. But it’s so, so fucking tempting. He bites his lip. He should say no.

He should say no.

“Yeah, please,” he breathes.

He’s a terrible person.

“How should I…?” he asks, making a vague gesture. 

-

“Um,” Dave looks away for a moment to consider.

He scoots in closer to Karkat, and lifts up his arm, looking back up at him.

“You can lay your head on my shoulder,” Dave says, “That way I can be on my back and you can be on your side.”

-

He nods, trying not to seem too eager.

“Okay,” he says, getting up and scooting closer, ducking under Dave’s arm to rest his head on Dave’s shoulder. There’s no keeping a reasonable distance between them like this; Karkat is curled right up against him. It feels like they were made to fit like this. 

He rubs his head against Dave, breathing deep.

“You smell good,” he says. He thinks he told Dave this before, but he can’t remember. It’s still true, regardless.

-

Dave huffs out a little laugh.

“Black currant,” he says, waggling his eyebrows even though Karkat can’t see it, “New shit I bought today. Applied some when I was in the washroom. Glad you approve.”

Dave runs his fingers through Karkat’s hair, scratching gently at the back of his scalp. “Get some sleep, Karks.” Dave says, keeping his voice soft.

-

Karkat hums, nuzzling into Dave’s shoulder. He likes how soft Dave’s skin is, how Dave calls him _Karks_ without sounding mocking, how good he smells and the cadence of his voice. He’s warm and relaxed and Dave is so fucking perfect; how can anyone be this perfect? How is this Karkat’s life?

Three days ago he hit this man with a car, and now he’s cuddled up next to him with Dave’s hands in his wild hair. He realizes suddenly that he’s been so wrapped up in Dave that he didn’t even do his habitual nightly check of his forearm. He hasn’t done that since… fuck, he can’t remember. It feels like he’s checked it every day since he knew what soulmates were.

And Dave made him forget all about that. 

Karkat doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep. Insomnia is a bitch, and while Dave seems to have some sort of gift when it comes to his hands, Karkat doubts they’ll be able to beat years of various sleep medications.

He’s surprised when he feels himself getting drowsy, and even more so when he finally slips under, Dave’s fingers lulling him to blissful, quiet sleep.

-

Dave isn’t sure how long he plays with Karkat’s hair, but eventually he feels Karkat go completely limp against him, his face soft, and snoring slightly.

Dave smiles to himself at his success. He gets the overwhelming urge to kiss Karkat on the forehead, but he doesn’t want to wake him up after he just fell to sleep.

Dave carefully shifts his head down and gingerly presses his lips into Karkat’s hair, as though it could be mistaken as more strokes from his fingers. He continues to scratch at Karkat’s scalp and comb through his curls well after Karkat is fast asleep.

The mixture of Karkat’s soft breathing, his warmth and his smell, the soft lights surrounding them, all of it begins to pull Dave under himself. And as he drifts, his last thought before his mind goes blank is that he wished he could fall asleep with Karkat in his arms every single night.

He doesn’t even have a chance to tack on the part where he thinks _but that was impossible_ before he’s fast asleep.

-

The last time Karkat slept through a full night without any nightmares he was fifteen years old. He’d had a bad day, he felt like he was getting sick, Kankri was out at an afterschool club and their dad was working late. The empty solitude of the house was oppressive, and all Karkat wanted was to start over again tomorrow. So he took a couple swigs of Nyquil, popped some allergy pills, and took his sleeping medication.

He woke up in the early morning hours of the next day. (His dad was pissed when he found out. Karkat’s never done it again.) It was a trial, waking up. Dragging his consciousness through a thick, unrelenting goop to open his eyes.

It isn’t like that this time.

Karkat wakes up slow but easily, gently. He’s warm and his limbs are fuzzy with sleep. When he opens his eyes he takes in the blanket fort in the light of day. The morning light is diffused by the sheets and it feels… safe. Soft.

Dave is already awake. Karkat can feel his hand moving in his hair. He’s tempted to close his eyes again, but he feels _good_. Well-rested. When’s the last time he felt like that?

“What time is it?” he wonders aloud, slowly nuzzling into Dave’s shoulder. “How long was I out?”

-

Dave’s been up for about an hour already. He woke up in the exact same position he’d fallen asleep in, on his back with Karkat laying with his head on his shoulder.

Dave’s arm was tingly from lack of circulation at first, but it’s fine now that his arm is moving again. And what better way to do so than to run his fingers in Karkat’s hair again?

Karkat was sleeping like the dead, and Dave feels a sense of satisfaction and pride sweep over him to know it was him who was responsible for Karkat finally being able to get to sleep and _stay_ asleep.

There’s two sensations that Dave has been experiencing since waking up. The first of which is a warm, soft, floaty feeling that filled up his chest the moment his eyes opened and he looked down and saw Karkat sleeping soundly in his arms. His last thought before falling asleep had been that he wanted to fall asleep with Karkat next to him every night. And his first thought upon waking was that he wanted to wake up to him every morning, too. And the implications of both of those statements are a lot to consider.

Dave knows what started off as a harmless crush based on Karkat’s ridiculously unfair attractiveness quickly evolved into something much more over the last few days, as Dave got to really know Karkat better. And the more he gets to know, the more he likes him.

It’s a scary thought, because it’s going to make losing Karkat once he finds his soulmate all the more painful. But Dave pushes that thought away, for what feels like the millionth time since all of this began, and just enjoys the feeling of Karkat in his arms, his soft curls around Dave’s fingers.

The second sensation Dave woke up to was an itching in his arm. Unfortunately, it was the arm that had a cast, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. He thought if he just ignored it that his stupid brain would stop sending itchy signals to that particularly inaccessible limb, but it didn’t go away.

Even now, Dave’s arm is prickling beneath his cast. And it’s a quiet kind of torture; there was truly nothing worse than an itch that couldn’t be scratched.

Dave feels Karkat’s head move, and he’s pulled away from his thoughts as he looks down and smiles softly as Karkat nuzzles deeper into his shoulder.

Karkat’s voice is muffled by Dave’s shoulder and muddled by sleepiness, but Dave can make out that he asks about the time.

“It’s almost nine,” Dave says quietly, “You sleep good, Kat?”

Dave wonders idly if this means that Karkat won’t be as much of a grump this morning, but Dave secretly hopes that isn’t the case because he really wants to be able to make Karkat coffee again, and watch his expression light up when Dave pushes the mug into his hands.

-

Nine!? Holy fuck, that means he got more than eight hours of uninterrupted, restful sleep. No fucking wonder he feels so good right now. Dave is amazingly soft and warm against him and he held Karkat all through the night. Karkat _woke up_ to Dave’s hands in his hair. 

He’s really fucking happy. It’s an odd feeling, made rarer by the early hour.

“I slept _great_ ,” he says. He stops rubbing his face against Dave’s shoulder like a weirdo and stretches awareness back into his limbs. Then immediately goes limp again, tossing his arm over Dave’s chest, turning over so he’s laying halfway on top of him. He buries his nose into Dave’s neck and breathes.

“You’re a fucking miracle, Dave,” he says quietly. “Thank you.”

Sleep is still making his brain function slow. He won’t really be awake until he’s had coffee, but he wants to bask in this while he can. He’ll lay on top of Dave until Dave gets sick of him and pushes him away or tells him to fuck off.

“Did you sleep okay?”

-

Karkat stretches against him and then tucks himself even closer against him, burying his face into Dave’s neck as he turns over to lay even more on top of Dave while still being careful of Dave’s arm.

Dave changes his mind. HappySleepyKat was the absolute best.

“Slept like a log,” Dave says, “And I mean as literally as I do figuratively. But I think I’m getting the hang of having to sleep on my back.”

He wants to say that having Karkat to lie on his chest is what makes it worthwhile, but he holds his tongue. Instead, he just bumps his head against Karkat’s a little, as though silently trying to convey what he’s thinking.

“I’m pretty fuckin’ cozy right now, but if you let me up I can get the percolator on.” Dave says, very half-heartedly. He really, really doesn’t want to get up.

-

On any other morning Karkat would jump at the chance to get some coffee in his system. He would have stumbled into the kitchen himself by now, blankets fluttering to the floor in his wake, as he grumpily tried to get his limbs in working order.

But he’s comfortable and Dave isn’t telling him to move. Dave says he’s _cozy_ , so Karkat takes that to mean he can stay here for just a while longer.

“Fuck you,” he mumbles contentedly. “‘M comfy.”

-

Dave chuckles. “Alright, you win. Bend my rubber arm, why don’t you. My hands are tied.”

He goes back to running his fingers through Karkat’s hair, realizing he’d stopped. Dave closes his eyes and just lets himself enjoy the warm comfort for a while, trying not to let any of his usual intrusive thoughts spoil this for him.

Like how platonic friends wouldn’t lay together like this.

Or that this wasn’t going to help Dave from stopping himself from liking Karkat any more than he already does.

Or that his arm was really, really fucking itchy.

Dave shuffles a little beneath Karkat, turning to bury his head into Karkat’s hair and breathe in his scent, sharp but sweet.

Dave lets out a long, contented hum, a pleased little smile coming to his face as tingly warmth settles into his bones. Falling asleep next to Karkat was great. Waking up next to him was even better.

But getting to stay in bed and be close like this after waking up? That was the best of all.

This week was going by too fast.

-

Karkat hums, squirming a bit to get more comfortable when Dave starts to play with his hair again. It’s a feeling he’s quickly getting addicted to. He’s never laid in bed like this before, curled up with someone and just being quiet. He sleeps better with someone next to him, but he always wakes up first, hours ahead of the other person. There was no point, laying in bed and either hoping to fall back asleep or waiting for them to wake up.

But this… this is nice. He could get used to this. Sleepy mornings spent enjoying the press of ~~Dave~~ someone against him. 

Unfortunately he has to pee. He sighs into Dave’s neck and pushes himself up onto his elbows, an explanation on his tongue that disappears the moment he sees Dave’s face.

Dave’s hair is messy from sleep, which is adorable as fuck, and his freckles stand out wonderfully in the morning light. His gemstone eyes stare into Karkat’s and his expression is soft and gentle and painfully fond. Karkat doesn’t think anyone’s ever looked at him like that before.

His mind is still hazy from sleep and he feels better than he has in years, probably. There’s joy bubbling in his chest, and he doesn’t think as he leans forward, pressing his lips to Dave’s. They’re softer than he ever could have imagined.

-

Karkat sits up and looks up at Dave, and all Dave can do is smile softly up at him as he takes him in. Karkat’s hair is squished on one side from sleeping against Dave’s shoulder all night long.

An expression falls over Karkat’s face that Dave can’t quite fathom. The shift in his features is so subtle that it’s only because they’re so close that Dave can see it. The way his brows raise as his eyes widen just so, his lips parting.

And then Karkat is leaning down, and Dave thinks he must have changed his mind about getting up after all, that he was going to lay back down on Dave’s shoulder for a few more minutes.

But then Karkat’s face is inches away from Dave’s own, and Dave's breath catches in his throat.

Oh, god. Karkat was—

Karkat kisses him.

The itching in Dave’s arm stops. Dave can’t feel anything other than Karkat’s warm, soft, wet lips against his own. His eyes are still open, he realizes, and he lets them flutter closed.

Friends don’t kiss like this.

But they never really were friends, were they? They were strangers who met by freak chance, acquaintances pushed together by happenstance, and then...this. This friendship that blurred the lines in Dave’s mind between what was and wasn’t platonic. With Karkat, none of it seemed to matter. It all felt right.

Kissing Karkat for real is nothing like Dave thought it would be. It’s even better. It feels like there’s fireworks bursting off in Dave’s brain and yet at the same time, it’s quiet. His belly squirms, but not from discomfort or anxiety, but excitement. There’s a feeling of _finally_ , of _what took you so long._ But mostly, Dave just feels happy. The happiest he’s ever felt.

It’s a shame that it can’t last.

Dave pushes his mouth a little deeper against Karkat’s, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. Wringing every drop from this moment that he can.

Then, even more half-hearted and reluctant than he was about getting up a few minutes ago, Dave turns his head and breaks off the kiss.

“Karkat,” Dave says, and the name rolls so pleasantly off Dave’s tongue but he also feels like his throat wants to close up around the sound of it.

Dave swallows, and opens his eyes, looking off at nothing.

“I’ve been...wanting to do that for...a while,” Dave murmurs. He can’t remember when exactly he first thought about kissing Karkat, but it’s been a thought so prevalent in his mind these last few days it feels like he’s thought about it from the very start.

“I really...I really like you,” Dave says, his voice feeling strained and weak the more he tries to get out the words. “In fact I like you so much that it’s kind of scaring the shit out of me.”

Dave finally gets over his cowardice and turns to look at Karkat. “It was already going to be a pretty brutal blow when you went and found your soulmate,” Dave says weakly, “And then you kissed me, and now I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do.”

Dave tries to offer Karkat a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And if you kiss me again, that’s it for me. There’s—even if by some impossible chance I really do have a soulmate out there...it won’t matter. Because you’ve given them pretty big shoes to fill, and there’s...there’s no way that boot is gonna fit.”

Dave has to look away again. “But that’s just my luck, right? That’s the family curse. The one I want isn’t my soulmate, and even if I did have a soulmate I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. Because I’d just be putting them on your pedestal, and that wouldn’t be any fair to them.”

-

Dave _kisses him back_ and Karkat’s heart soars. There’s no tongue or teeth, no open mouths, but it’s the best kiss he’s ever had. Dave’s lips are velvety soft and when they move, pressing against his own, it sends a shiver down his spine. He wants to do this forever, wants to wake up every morning next to Dave and rain kisses down on his lips and his face and his neck. He wants to kiss every freckle and scar until he knows Dave with his lips and tongue.

But then Dave turns his face away and it all comes crashing down.

It’s the gentlest rejection Karkat’s ever received but that makes it hurt all the more. Because Dave _likes_ him, he’s wanted to kiss Karkat too, but Karkat isn’t his soulmate.

He can’t believe he forgot about soulmates.

What is he doing? He’s supposed to be looking for his soulmate, waiting for them, because he’s too goddamn much for anyone else. He’s not supposed to be falling in love with yet another person who can’t fucking love him back.

“Right,” he says gruffly, pushing himself into a sitting position and turning away. “Sorry. You’re right. I have to uh. Go shower.”

And then he runs away like a fucking coward.

He locks himself in the bathroom and puts his head in his hands. His eyes burn, but when the tears start to fall all he can think about is how Dave said he wanted to see him cry. He laughs humorlessly into the silent room.

For lack of anything else to do, and to not raise suspicion that Karkat is having another fucking bathroom breakdown, he turns on the shower. He robotically strips out of his clothes and looks to his forearm out of habit.

And there it is. His mark.

It’s still light, almost impossible to see. Karkat rubs at it, feeling numb, but it doesn’t budge. Through his tears he can make out the outline of the words _you’re beautiful_.

If there was any doubt before, it’s gone now. Dave is his soulmate.

But Dave is convinced that Karkat isn’t his.

And what if he’s right? What if, when his cast comes off, he doesn’t have Karkat’s first words to him scrawled across his arm? What if it’s blank, or worse, he’s bound to someone else?

Never in his life did Karkat entertain the possibility that he might have an unrequited bond. That he’d be made for someone who isn’t made for him. It figures. Just another drop in the bucket of shit that is the life of Karkat Vantas.

He feels numb, like his consciousness is hanging somewhere outside his body. He sticks his hand into the shower but can’t tell the temperature. He doesn’t know what to do, so he steps under the spray of the shower, hoping it will wash away the sting of rejection.

-

Fuck.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

Dave should have just been selfish. He should have just kept kissing Karkat. He should have just let Karkat keep kissing him, holding him, doing whatever he wanted...he should have let Karkat use him up and wring him dry. Until his soulmark finally appeared and he found the one he was destined for and would leave Dave behind.

At least then Dave wouldn’t have had to see Karkat’s expression crumple apart the way it did just now. That hurt worse than any of the pain Dave would have been in when Karkat found his soulmate. He could have just been selfish and kept Karkat to himself and made him as happy as he could until his soulmate appears. And then he could have let him go. Set him free.

Because that’s what you do when you love something.

But instead Dave _rejected_ him. He wished Karkat would have just told him ‘fuck my soulmate’ and kept on kissing him. Convince Dave that once and for all that none of this soulmate shit mattered as much as everyone made it out to be.

But Dave brought Karkat to his senses. Made him remember there was someone waiting out there for him, and that person couldn’t be Dave. He was just trying to warn Karkat.

Like his Bro had warned him.

_Don’t leave your back open._

Dave can’t even bring himself to call out as Karkat turns and leaves. He wants to reach out his hand, grab Karkat by the wrist and beg him to stay. But he doesn’t. He just lets Karkat walk away, hurt and dejected. It’s what Dave deserves.

After a few moments of just sitting in numb silence in the blanket fort, Dave crawls out. He wants to go after him. He wants to scream and shout that he doesn’t care about who Karkat’s soulmate is, that Dave will take Karkat for as long as he’s allowed to have him. That he’ll promise to let him go when the time comes.

But it’s too late. He already hurt Karkat. There’s no way Karkat would want anything else from him now. Not friends, not acquaintances, not even fuck buddies. Just back to strangers.

Dave goes over to the kitchen and sets up the percolator. Then he makes himself a bowl of Cheerios, even though he doesn’t feel like eating. He doesn’t want Karkat to have to do anything else for him. He stands at the counter, watching the Cheerios get soggy.

His arm itches again.

Dave sighs, and leaves the kitchen, heading towards his bedroom. He hesitates for a brief moment by the bathroom door, where the shower is still running. He thinks about pulling the door open and ripping open the curtain and kissing Karkat, not giving a shit how much water gets on his cast.

But he doesn’t. He keeps walking towards his room. He changes into one of his new button downs, and a pair of gym shorts.

His cast is getting heavy again, he should put his sling back on. It’s sitting on his dresser. Dave goes to reach for it, but there’s no way he can put it on himself. And he can’t handle the thought of having to ask Karkat to get close to him to put it on for him. He leaves the sling on the dresser and walks back out to the kitchen.

The percolator is bubbling, so Dave takes it off the heat and turns off the element. He doesn’t feel like coffee, so he just pulls out a single mug for Karkat.

For once, Dave isn’t excited about giving it to him. It feels more like a shitty peace offering than anything at this point. Dave goes over to the fort and gets his shades off the mattress and slides them back in place. Then he goes back to the kitchen and leans against the counter, holding up his heavy, itchy cast with his other arm as he stares down at the tile floor.

-

Karkat doesn’t know how long he stays in the shower, unmoving, staring blankly down at his arm. Eventually he remembers that he’s supposed to be washing himself and goes through the motions. His hands are shaking, he notes absently.

By the time he’s done, he’s come back to himself enough to realize that not only are his hands shaking but so is his whole body. Because it’s fucking freezing. He turns the water off and dries off with a towel. He was in such a rush that he didn’t bring in any clothes. But instead of risking going out into the hallway naked again, he sucks it up and puts on his dirty pajamas. It makes his skin crawl, but it means putting off having to face Dave again.

He can’t believe he kissed him. He’s a fucking idiot. If Dave wanted to make a move he would have; Karkat just pushed him into something he was actively avoiding. Dave doesn’t want him, and Karkat will have to fucking accept that, even though thinking it makes the pressure behind his eyes build again.

He’s not going to subject Dave to his tears. He’s not going to make him feel bad for Karkat’s inability to control himself. If Dave still wants to be his friend Karkat will gladly accept it. And if not…

Karkat doesn’t know what he’ll do if his soulmate wants him out of his life completely.

When Karkat walks into the kitchen he’s surprised to find Dave there, staring morosely at the floor. His guilt threatens to crush him again. He’s the reason Dave looks like that.

There’s an untouched mug of coffee on the counter next to him, though, which is a promising sign. Dave continues to be a surprise.

“Is that for me?” he asks awkwardly. For once he feels wide awake without any coffee in his system.

-

Dave looks up when Karkat speaks, and that’s a mistake because he meets Karkat’s eyes and his chest instantly aches. Karkat’s freshly showered, but still wearing his pyjamas from the other night. His curls are damp against his head, some of the thicker clumps still dripping water. Dave looks back down at the floor, trying to put his mask of indifference back in place.

“Yeah. You can have the whole pot,” Dave says, pushing himself off from the counter and walking over to his untouched bowl of Cheerios. “Don’t worry about breakfast, I just made some cereal.”

He scoops up a spoonful and shovels the soggy cereal into his mouth, and tries not to grimace as he chews.

Silence hangs in the air, and for the very first time in four days, it’s awkward.

-

Dave has his shades back on and Karkat hates it. It feels like Dave’s blocking off a part of himself because Karkat destroyed his trust. What is he supposed to say? The silence is suffocating as Dave eats his cereal (Karkat would have made him breakfast) and he drinks his coffee (it tastes dull on his tongue).

Finally he can’t take it anymore. He puts his mug down and sighs, running a hand through his wet hair.

“I’m sorry,” Karkat says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He doesn’t regret it. It might be the only chance he’s ever given to feel Dave’s lips against his own and he’s going to cherish it. He hates that this is the aftermath, though. He never wanted to make Dave upset.

“You’re right, you have a soulmate out there who isn’t me and it’s not fair to them.” It hurts so fucking much to say. “I really fucking like you, Dave. I hope I didn’t just ruin the chance for us to be friends.”

It’s _hard_ , being mature. He wants to kick and scream and yell, wants to demand Dave tell him why he isn’t good enough, why Karkat is the one with the unrequited bond when he’s dreamed of having a soulmate since childhood. But this isn’t Dave’s fault. It’s not even Karkat’s, not really. Fate is determined to screw him over.

-

Dave looks up mid-chew of his sad excuse for a breakfast and stares at Karkat.

Karkat was apologizing? For kissing him?

For doing the very thing Dave had been hoping he would do for days, because Dave himself was too fucking cowardly to do it himself?

Does Karkat think Dave is _mad at him_ for kissing him? Dave’s never been happier in his life. Which is the only reason he’s so glum now, because it all got stripped away as quickly as it had appeared.

What’s more, Karkat is twisting around his words. He didn’t reject Karkat because Karkat wasn’t his soulmate—hell, he didn’t even really reject Karkat at all!

Oh, god. Fuck. Karkat had this all wrong. Which meant Dave was going to have to spell it out for him all over again.

“Did you...did you miss the part where I told you that I liked you?” Dave asks, hefting an eyebrow. “I told you that...I wanted you to. So I’m not—I don’t—I wanted you to.”

Karkat looks over at him but Dave averts his gaze. But he doesn’t move his head, only his eyes. A cowardly trick to make it seem like he has his shit together enough to maintain eye contact while he gets the words out.

“You’re making it sound like I told you to stop kissing me because I’m holding out for my soulmate to show up and whisk me off my feet,” Dave says, and for some reason he’s starting to feel an agitation growing inside his chest.

“That’s not—I said if you kissed me, it was just going to ruin everyone else for me, soulmate or no soulmate. Because nothing else woulda measured up. I don’t give a fuck about stupid fucking soulmates and to be completely honest, I wish they didn’t even fucking exist.”

Dave’s voice keeps getting louder as he continues to speak. He never raises his voice like this. He can’t seem to make it stop. His heart is racing. He feels so fucking frustrated.

“Because if I didn’t have to worry about the fact I’m not your fucking soulmate, we’d still be in that blanket fort and I would be kissing your goddamn brains out.”

Dave finally catches himself, realizing that he’s abandoned his cereal and has started to walk across the kitchen towards Karkat. He’s halfway across the space, where Karkat’s still by the stove, staring openly at him.

Dave bites his lip, feeling his face burn. “But—but you have a soulmate out there and it’s clearly not me and it’s...I just—“

Dave makes a frustrated noise, running a hand through his bangs. “It never used to matter. I could hook up with people and it never had to mean anything. And if they found their soulmate, whatever. At least we had some fun in the meantime.”

Dave drops his arm and looks up at Karkat again. “But it’s not like that with you. Because—you’re different. You’re just...different. Like I can’t just be a bit fucking greedy and have what I want while I can have it because the second you find your soulmate I’ll—“

Dave cuts himself off again, not knowing how to even finish the sentence. He sighs loudly, and shakes his head.

-

Karkat is gaping at Dave. Dave is _yelling_ at him, or almost yelling at him. Raising his voice. Clearly upset. It’s the first time he’s been anything but passively accepting of Karkat’s every move and it’s. Kinda hot.

Admittedly, Karkat picked up on the implied rejection before and the rest turned to background noise. He should have listened more closely, because Dave is saying _if I didn’t have to worry about the fact I’m not your fucking soulmate_ but he _is_ Karkat’s soulmate. Even if Dave isn’t his. Karkat doesn’t have the strength required not to act on that, not to take advantage of the fact that, for now at least, Dave _wants_ him.

Even if it means it will hurt more later.

Dave is standing close to him now, face screwed up in frustration. Karkat reaches out and grabs Dave’s wrist.

“You don’t need to worry about my soulmate,” Karkat says, stepping closer. “It doesn’t matter.”

It does matter. Dave has stripped himself bare for Karkat, trusted him with shit he’s never told anyone, but Karkat can’t tell him about his soulmark, not without knowing if it’s requited. It’s too raw, too new. Would Dave be excited, having Karkat bound to him by fate? Would he be angry? He said he wishes they don’t exist.

Karkat’s a coward. He’s too afraid to find out. But he wants Dave, more than he’s wanted anything in his life, even the nebulous idea of a soulmate. And even if Dave doesn’t belong to Karkat the way Karkat belongs to Dave, he’ll take what he can get for as long as he can get it. He’s a terrible, awful person, but he doesn’t fucking care. His hand is on Dave’s waist and their faces are inches apart and Karkat reaches up to push Dave’s sunglasses into his hair and Dave _lets_ him and “What are you waiting for?”


	7. Chapter 7

Karkat steps forward and grabs Dave by the wrist, making Dave jerk his head to look back at Karkat.

He tells Dave not to worry about his soulmate. That it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter.

Dave suddenly can’t get a breath in. Is Karkat telling him that he doesn’t care about who his soulmate is, that...

That for now, Karkat wants Dave. And that’s all that matters.

Even if it’ll hurt Dave later, when it’s time to let Karkat go. When he does find his soulmate and suddenly it does matter.

Karkat tugs Dave closer with a hand on his waist, and lets go of Dave’s wrist to push his shades up. Dave lets him do it, too stunned to stop him. He’s never let anyone touch his shades, or take them off before. But Karkat was different. Karkat was special.

Karkat wasn’t his soulmate but he was still important to Dave.

And nothing else mattered to him more than that fact right now. There was no more barrier between them, no more skirting around the way they both felt. No more giving a shit about the fact they weren’t soulmates.

Fuck soulmates.

_What are you waiting for?_

“I have no fucking idea,” Dave breathes, already leaning in.

He grabs the back of Karkat’s neck and sharply pulls him close, crushing their lips together. Karkat’s arms wrap around his back, holding him close and so, so tightly. Dave’s cast is pinned between them, preventing them from pressing their bodies any closer. That only makes Dave even more frustrated.

_STUPID FUCKING CAST—_

All he wants is to be able to wrap both arms around Karkat’s shoulders and he can’t even have that. Karkat’s not his soulmate and Dave is being punished for kissing him by not being allowed to kiss him the way he wants.

Dave grunts in frustration against their mouths, moving his lips frantically against Karkat’s. He grabs a fistful of curls at the back of Karkat’s head and pulls, knocking Karkat’s head back as he turns his head and deepens the kiss, opening his mouth and breathing heavily.

-

Their first kiss was soft, gentle, sleepy. This is nothing like that. Dave kisses him harshly, frustration still coiled in every part of him. He yanks Karkat’s hair and arousal pulses through him at the tingling pain it causes. 

He moans when he feels Dave’s tongue against his lips, opening his mouth to let him in. It’s hot and wet and Karkat’s hands feel up and down Dave’s back before coming to rest on his ass and giving a rough squeeze, pulling Dave closer. His stupid fucking cast is in the way but Karkat can deal.

He bites at Dave’s lip like he’s imagined doing a thousand times and the noise Dave makes is better than he could have dreamed. And since this is Karkat wish fulfilment time he thinks _fuck it, why not?_ and hooks his hands under Dave’s thighs, hoisting him up, never breaking their kiss.

Dave is incredibly light. Karkat could hold him like this for hours. Dave wraps his legs around Karkat’s waist and Karkat buries a hand in his hair, tugging him back so he can get at Dave’s neck. He sucks and bites, leaving bruising kisses all along the column of Dave’s throat, until he reaches Dave’s earlobe and tugs it between his teeth.

-

Karkat moans as Dave’s tongue slips against his lips and into his mouth, and then he’s grabbing fistfuls of Dave’s ass and pulling him even closer to him and that makes Dave moan right back.

His moan gets even louder as Karkat bites at his lip, arousal spiking up inside him like a hot brand piercing into his gut. While Dave is still riding the delirious high from that maneuver, Karkat manages to get his hands behind Dave’s thighs and pick him up—ohfuckohgodthatisSOhot—and their kiss doesn’t break for even an instant and that’s even more hot.

Dave hooks his legs around Karkat’s waist and locks his ankles together, but he doesn’t even feel the need to squeeze his legs or wrap his arm around Karkat’s shoulders and hold on for dear life because Karkat has him, carrying him with ease.

Karkat pulls on Dave’s hair and Dave lets out a sharp little gasp that melts into a groan as his head is pulled back, giving Karkat full access to his neck. Dave bites at his lip as Karkat bites and licks and kisses his way up Dave’s neck, and then—

“Fff- _uck_ —!” Dave cries out as Karkat bites his ear. It’s hot and wet and Karkat’s teeth are sharp on the incredibly sensitive skin of his ear, and it feels fucking fantastic.

Dave’s back arches, his body rolling at the touch, his head leaning into Karkat’s mouth—silently begging for more.

Dave turns his head so he can get at Karkat’s neck, pressing sloppy and desperate kisses from the base where his shoulder meets his neck, up to Karkat’s ear. Dave sighs as Karkat continues his own ministrations, turning Dave’s brain into a hazy fog so much that he can barely concentrate on giving as good as he gets.

Karkat licks the shell of Dave’s ear and Dave shivers and lets out a shaky moan, squeezing his thighs tighter around Karkat’s waist and whimpering right into Karkat’s ear.

“K-Karkat...fuckk...”

-

Dave moaning his name goes straight to his dick. It sounds heavenly being rolled off Dave’s tongue like that and Karkat wants him to say it again and again, wants to make Dave overwhelmed with pleasure until it’s the only word he knows.

And _fuck_ , Dave’s mouth on his neck has his eyes fluttering closed and a sharp gasp escaping him. For a moment all he can do is _breathe_ and let the sensation wash over him as Dave pays attention to the sensitive area. 

Dave is wearing one of his stupid button ups and that’s a fucking tragedy. He needs it off of Dave, needs to be able to kiss and touch and feel his chest up the way it deserves, the way he’s wanted to since he first saw Dave shirtless.

He walks them back towards the living room and stops, but Dave doesn’t disentangle his legs. Karkat laughs against his neck and gives his ass another squeeze.

“C’mon, get down,” he says. “We’re going to make out in this fucking blanket fort.”

-

Dave keeps his assault of kisses on Karkat’s neck, trying to pull Karkat apart—he knew this fucker’s neck was sensitive, and not just because it was ‘ticklish’.

“Nah,” Dave says when Karkat tells him to get down, “Don’t think I will. I’m like a baby koala up in this bitch.”

Or maybe he’s the adult koala, grabbing onto the tree? Because fuck, Karkat sure as shit is as solid as one. Dave squeezes his legs and wraps his arms tighter around Karkat. He’s wanted Karkat to pick him up like this again since Karkat scraped his crumpled ass off the pavement four days ago. He ain’t getting down any time soon.

“C’mon, Big Kat, you tellin’ me you can’t throw me down into that blanket fort yourself with them big guns of yours?” Dave purrs into Karkat’s ear, making sure to really milk the drawl in his accent as he speaks. He knows what it does to him.

-

Karkat’s breath hitches at the heat that pulses in his stomach when Dave slips further into his accent. And the feeling of Dave’s lips on his neck, his legs tightening around him. Fuck, Karkat is in way over his head with this.

“You’re _injured_ , you little shit,” he hisses. “Excuse me for not wanting to toss you around like a ragdoll.”

He releases Dave, letting him hold on by himself, and awkwardly shuffles into the fort. A feat made more difficult by Dave still going at his neck. When he’s on his knees on the mattress he reaches back up to tug Dave away by his hair, only to capture his mouth with his own as soon as it’s available.

He leans forward, pressing Dave into the mattress, and his hands start fumbling with the buttons on his shirt until he gets frustrated.

“Hope you’re not emotionally attached to this,” he mumbles against Dave’s mouth, then rips the shirt open. 

-

Dave grins against Karkat’s neck as Karkat brings them into the fort. Dave holds on tight while he continues to kiss and lick and bite at Karkat’s neck. Then Karkat is pulling him away by the hair and Dave fucking _whines_ before Karkat’s shutting him up with another fierce kiss.

Dave hums against their mouths, melting into the mattress as Karkat carefully sets him down, and Dave unhooks his ankles but keeps his legs pressed against Karkat’s hips. He has to make up for the fact that one arm is out of commission by holding Karkat in place with every other available appendage he has.

Karkat mumbles something against his lips about attachment, but Dave isn’t quite listening, too caught up in their make-out. He makes a curious hum, blinking his eyes open to look up at Karkat when—

_Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!_

“The fuck, dude!” Dave cries out, looking down at his shirt, now pulled open completely and revealing his bare chest. “You’re so fuckin’ lucky I put on one of the ones with the snap-on buttons. I’m not emotionally attached but I did just fucking buy it. Jesus.”

Dave’s irritation is incredibly half-hearted, because the fact that Karkat’s so impatient to get him naked that he’s _literally ripping his clothes off_ is honestly hot as hell.

In retaliation Dave grabs at the back of Karkat’s collar and tries to pull it over Karkat’s head one handed. “Off, off, off,” he chants, scrabbling to grab more of the shirt and pull it over Karkat’s head, but it’s very difficult to do one-handed, and doesn’t wind up being very sexy.

-

“I’d get you another one,” he says.

Karkat’s intense need to attack Dave’s chest is thwarted when Dave starts yanking on the collar of his sweater. Karkat rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing him down. Dave gazes up at him as Karkat removes his sweater, trying not to let embarrassment overcome him. 

Dave is gorgeous and thin and lithe, but Karkat is just… a lot. He’s strong but he doesn’t look like the men in movies. His muscles are covered by a layer of chub and his stomach sticks out unflatteringly. But Dave thinks he’s attractive, somehow, for some reason, so he tries to put his wariness aside.

He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss over Dave’s heart. He follows it up with a quick bite.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Dave,” he says. His hands stroke across Dave’s chest, fingers finding the bump of scars and following along before abandoning them in favor of drawing circles around Dave’s nipple and pinching it lightly when it pebbles under the attention. He sucks the other one into his mouth as he slides a thigh between Dave’s leg.

He’s supporting most of his weight, still. He doesn’t want to fucking crush Dave, after all.

-

Karkat shoves Dave back against the mattress, rolling his eyes before leaning back to pull his sweater off himself. Dave is perfectly happy to lean back and enjoy the show.

Fuuuck, Dave already feels like drooling and Karkat’s only half-naked. Karkat is solid and strong, and Dave has the sudden urge to bite at the fleshier parts of his hips, leaving marks all over them so that when Karkat sees them he knows there’s nothing he needs to dislike. He can see the marks and knows Dave likes him for him.

Karkat leans down and Dave squirms a little with breathless anticipation. God, the visual of a shirtless Karkat with eyes dark with arousal leaning down to kiss Dave was going to be a top spot in Dave’s wet dreams for the next little while. Instead of kissing him on the lips, Karkat kisses him on the chest. Dave looks down at Karkat curiously and then his head throws back and he gasps as Karkat bites the same spot.

 _Gorgeous_.

A deep shiver crawls up Dave from head to toe at the praise, making his belly curl inward. He presses his lips together and groans in his throat as Karkat’s hands run up his chest, his fingers and mouth playing with his nipples, which makes Dave’s lips part as his breath catches in his chest.

Karkat’s thigh slips between Dave’s legs, just barely pressing between Dave’s thighs. Dave rolls his hips, brushing up against Karkat’s leg just a little. A shallow teasing grind, subtly asking for more.

“F-flattery will get you everywhere,” Dave says, cursing his voice for faltering on him.

He was totally letting Karkat sweep him away, and as incredible as it felt, Dave wanted to make Karkat feel good too. But he doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to make Karkat swoon when he’s got his arm in this big stupid cast.

At a loss for what else to do, Dave just curls his fingers into Karkat’s hair and Karkat continues to kiss his chest, his stomach and back rolling under the attention of Karkat’s mouth and tongue.

-

Dave makes the most beautiful noises. Karkat experiments, seeing what Dave likes. What makes him moan and whine and whimper. Laving his tongue over his nipples, rolling them between his lips and fingers, pinching and pulling. 

He moves his leg further up when Dave rolls his hips, giving more pressure, urging him on. He finally lets up on Dave’s abused chest to trail kisses along his jaw, ending with a quick kiss to his lips.

“It’s not flattery, asshole; it’s the truth,” he says. “You’re so fucking handsome it’s infuriating. And I'm exactly where I want to be.”

He uses his hand to take Dave by the chin and turn his head, exposing the side of his neck he hasn’t yet marked up. He goes slower, this time, starting with wet, gentle kisses, and sucking small bits of skin into his mouth to worry between his teeth. A bunch of small marks to contrast the larger ones on the other side.

-

Karkat takes Dave by the chin and moves his head to the side so he can get at the other side of his neck that has gone _sorely_ neglected if Dave has anything to say about it. But Karkat is certainly making up for it.

Karkat takes his sweet old time, not rushing in the slightest. They quickly calmed down from their frantic, sloppy make-out from the kitchen, and were evolving into softer, slower kisses. It’s letting Dave really feel every sensation to its full potential, which only heightens his arousal even further than the fierce and crushing kisses from earlier.

Dave writhes under Karkat’s attention, eyelashes and lip quivering as he sighs and moans. Karkat’s lips are so soft and warm, his teeth bite down deliciously into his skin. Karkat seems to know exactly where to put his mouth to pull sounds out of Dave, like they’ve been doing this for years instead of minutes.

“Mmmg...feels so good,” Dave breathes.

-

Karkat smiles into Dave’s neck. 

“Yeah?” He asks, dropping a final peck to Dave’s neck. “Wanna make you feel even better, baby.”

The endearment slips out without permission. It feels so natural to say Karkat almost doesn’t notice it at first. A blush breaks out on his face but he hopes Dave doesn’t mind. He wants to call Dave all the saccharine sweet pet names in the book. 

He pushes himself up, sitting back on his thighs, hands dragging along Dave’s chest and torso as he goes. Dave is hard; Karkat can see his dick tenting his shorts. Karkat’s been hard since he picked Dave up in the kitchen, but it’s easy to ignore when Dave is under him, reacting so amazingly to his touch. He doesn’t make a move to touch Dave’s dick, instead rubbing calming circles into his legs as Karkat gazes down at him.

He looks good enough to eat.

“Tell me what you want, babe,” he says. 

-

Dave’s eyes pop open at the word _baby_.

Hhhholy fuck. He was already getting hard from all the attention his neck was getting but that made his dick fill out damn-near instantaneously. Dave looks down wide-eyed and panting, even though Karkat hadn’t even been kissing his mouth, feeling his cheeks still burning from the pet name. Nobody has even called him that before. It felt...good, hearing it fall from Karkat’s lips. It felt right.

Karkat’s hands run down Dave’s chest and stomach as he looks down at him, moving down to the top of Dave’s thighs and rubbing circles with his thumbs. Dave squirms under the touch, and even more so at the question and _babe_ —

All these pet names—does this mean Karkat wants Dave as more than just a fuck buddy? That he wants to date Dave? Ohh, fuck. The idea of getting to be Karkat’s boyfriend, of getting to hear Karkat call him babe all the time, not just in the bedroom—

But it wouldn’t last. It would be a relationship doomed to end from the start. Because Karkat would find his soulmate and would have to leave. And Dave would be crushed, of course he would. He would have the perfect life and then the moment Karkat finds his soulmate he can’t even be happy for him, because it means that Dave will be all alone again...

Was a little brief happiness, knowing it would be temporary, worth that pain?

For Karkat, maybe it could be.

Dave pushes the thoughts away, staring up at Karkat—the drop-dead sexy man rubbing down his legs teasingly close to his dick right now—and rolls his hips upwards.

“Please, Kat,” Dave breathes, “I want...I want y—“

_I want you to be my soulmate._

_So I don’t have to worry about this ever having to end._

Dave stares at Karkat’s lips.

“Want you to...blow me,” Dave forces out, “wanna see what else that mouth of yours can do.”

-

Karkat breaks out into a grin. 

“Yeah? You’re in for a fucking treat, then.”

He leans forward and kisses Dave again, moving slow and drawing it out. Savoring it, in case Dave won’t let him kiss him again after he’s had cum in his mouth. He dated a guy like that before, who pushed him away and made him go brush his teeth after giving a blowjob.

When he pulls away he smiles down at Dave’s flushed, panting face, and drops a quick kiss to the freckle near his eye. Then he sits up and scoots down.

He lays down, bracing himself on an arm, and leans in, mouthing at Dave’s dick through his shorts. His fingertips trail near the waistband.

“Gonna take these off for me, baby?” he asks. “Let me see you?”

-

Karkat grins and then he leans forward and kisses Dave sweet and slow and Dave swears his heart is going to leap out of his chest. Karkat kisses him completely breathless, and then kisses him quick on the cheek. And somehow that makes Dave’s heart lurch even more than the longer kiss.

Dave rolls his head back as Karkat fucking mouths him through his shorts. Oh man. Dave is in big trouble. Karkat’s one of those dudes who gives incredible oral sex, isn’t he? Of course he is. Thoughtful, caring, generous? Sexy as hell? Just toss those all together for one big Great At Oral salad, serving for one.

Dave whines at the incredibly teasing touch, he can feel how hot the inside of Karkat’s mouth is through all the layers and it’s torture. So when Karkat asks him sweetly for Dave to _let him see_ , Dave is happy to oblige, quickly scrabbling with the elastic waistband of his shorts, suddenly very glad he didn’t wear anything else with a button today. Dave hooks his thumb under the band of his shorts and boxers and lifts up his hips so he can pull them down over his hard dick.

His cock springs free once Dave pulls the shorts and boxers down and over it, leaving them sitting halfway down his legs. It’s strange but exhilarating to be naked-but-not-quite like this, with his shirt pulled open but still wearing it, just enough to expose his chest, and his shorts pulled down to just above his knees so his already-leaking cock is exposed, twitching in the open air.

Dave takes his hand away from his shorts but isn’t sure where else to put it. He wants to put it back in Karkat’s hair but he also doesn’t want that to come off as him trying to shove Karkat down on his dick. First of all, that was just a rude way to christen his first blow job from Karkat, and second of all he wants to see what Karkat will do for himself.

Another small bead of precum gathers on his head just from the thought of it, and he looks down at Karkat, anxiously expectant.

-

Dave eagerly shoves his shorts down and Karkat has to hold in his laugh; he doesn’t want Dave thinking he’s laughing at his dick. 

Dave’s dick springs up and _god_ it’s pretty. Long and pink and waiting for Karkat’s mouth. He starts salivating just looking at it. But instead of going right for it he leans down to press kisses to the soft skin of Dave’s inner thighs. The freckles are here, too, and that makes Karkat overwhelmingly fond. He gives them the same attention he did Dave’s neck, alternating between kissing and biting and sucking.

When he’s got them marked up nice and good, splotches of dark red laid out before him, he moves up, dragging his tongue up the underside of Dave’s cock, and flicks his tongue at the head, lapping up the precum that’s gathered there. He presses a kiss to the tip and glances up at Dave, wanting to see those gorgeous eyes as he sinks down. And down. And down, relaxing his throat and enjoying the weight on his tongue as he slowly takes Dave down to the base.

Fuck yes, he knew all that practicing would pay off. He hasn’t had the chance to try his new skill on someone yet, having only dedicated himself to stepping up his fucking game after his ex broke up with him.

-

Karkat leans down and starts kissing Dave’s inner thighs, and Dave has to stop his legs from twitching at the new sensation. Huh. Nobody has ever kissed and bitten at his thighs before sucking his dick before. None of his previous partners had put his kind of effort into riling Dave up. They sort of just went to town with no real pattern or depth and called it a day. And of course Karkat, the one person Dave would be quite alright with _getting the hell on with it already_ , takes his sweet time pulling Dave apart.

And Dave _loves it_.*

By the time Karkat finally pulls away from his thighs—which are looking all kinds of fucked up, covered in tons of red and purpling marks—Dave is a panting, gasping, writhing mess underneath him. He makes a weak noise, a small begging moan, as Karkat moves upwards. He lets out a sharp gasp and his hips jolt as Karkat licks up the underside of his cock, flicks his tongue on his flushed, over-sensitive cockhead and licks up Dave’s precum. Karkat kisses—hnnnng—the tip of Dave’s cock and then finally, _finally_ , sinks down. Keeping his eyes locked on Dave the entire damn time as he goes down

And down...

And down...

Until Dave feels the head of his cock press against the back of Karkat’s throat.

Huh. That’s new, too.

Dave is in so much fucking trouble.

“Sweet merciful fucking christ...” Dave gasps out, not a breath of air left in his lungs. “...that’s fucking illegal, babe.”

The pet name feels good on Dave’s tongue, feeling just as right as hearing it come from Karkat. He hopes Karkat doesn’t mind if he says it, too.

-

Dave’s expression is breathtaking and the noises he makes are musical. Karkat greedily commits every last one to memory.

When Dave calls him _babe_ , he moans, the vibration of his throat hopefully wrapping exquisitely around Dave’s dick. If the jolt his hips give is any indication, it definitely worked. Karkat swallows, then slowly moves back up, until his lips are wrapped around just the head of Dave’s cock. He takes his time, working at an aching, frustratingly slow pace.

He wants this to last. Wants Dave to come undone and beg Karkat for more. Or demand it. He’s never had his face fucked before, but the thought of Dave thrusting up into his mouth, holding his head in place with a tight grip on his hair makes his stomach flip.

Maybe later, when Dave’s more desperate.

He reaches out and gently rolls Dave’s balls in his hand, picking up the pace just slightly. He grabs Dave’s hand and leads it to his hair, since all he’s done so far is clench and unclench his hands, stomach muscles twitching as Karkat keeps his hips pinned to the mattress. 

-

Sweet fuck, Dave has never gotten head this good before. Karkat moans with Dave’s dick all the way down his throat and the vibration it sends through Dave makes his hips stutter and twitch. Karkat reaches up and presses his hands down on Dave’s hips, holding him in place. The sensation makes Dave shiver, and also weirdly...secure? A weird thing to feel during a blow job, but it also feels good. Karkat’s not letting him go anywhere. Karkat has him. Karkat isn’t letting Dave fuck up his rhythm by thrusting his hips, Karkat is setting the pace and keeping it that way, and that is the hottest fucking thing ever.

Even if his pace is agonizingly slow torture, the masochist in Dave can’t get enough. He wants Karkat to pull him apart slow and steady until Dave is begging for more. Dave’s hand clenches and unclenches at his side, gripping tightly at the sheets as Karkat starts touching his balls. Then Karkat is taking Dave’s hand and guiding it towards his hair. Dave stares down at Karkat, who looks up at him through his lashes with his full lips wrapped gorgeously around his cock.

Dave whimpers, and grips into Karkat’s curls, grabbing a fistful. “P-lease...” he begs, trying to buck his hips up but Karkat’s hold on them is firm.

Dave bites his lip and, gently, pushes down on Karkat’s head, a silent plea. He lets go of his lip and lets out a soft, broken whisper: “Please...Karkat, ple- _ase_ , baby—“

-

Dave is so _good_ , so sweet and gentle as he guides Karkat’s head further down on his dick, pleas falling from his mouth. He’s so quiet, his voice is a whisper, but that just means Karkat isn’t doing well enough yet. 

He goes down easily, eager, and lets another moan build in his throat as Dave’s fingers tighten slightly in his hair. And then he stays there, Dave’s dick down his throat, until Dave gets the message and uses his hair to guide him back up.

It’s wonderful and perfect and delicious. Karkat keeps Dave’s hips pinned and Dave sets the pace, hand fisted in Karkat’s hair. He lets his eyes flutter shut and focuses on breathing through his nose whenever Dave pulls him off enough that his dick isn’t piercing the tight ring of muscles that make up the back of Karkat’s throat.

There’s drool on his chin, dripping down, making a mess. Karkat wants to tell Dave how good he is, how fucking amazing it feels to have him fucking his mouth, how Karkat would do anything if he only asked him to. But that would require stopping, and Karkat thinks he’d die if that happened.

Dave sets a quicker pace and Karkat doesn’t fight it, just does his best to keep up. He moans and breathes, bobs up and down, lets Dave use him as he pleases and enjoys every fucking second of it. His dick is throbbing in his pajama pants and he rolls his hips down, needing that friction. 

-

It takes Dave a moment to realize that Karkat is getting him to set the pace when Karkat goes all the way down and doesn’t come back up until Dave pulls on his hair. 

Fuuuck, that’s so fucking hot, holy hell Karkat was going to kill him.

Dave takes it slowly at first, not wanting to push Karkat too far or hurt him. But no matter how many times Dave’s guides him down onto his cock, Karkat doesn’t let up, taking Dave’s dick into his mouth and throat fucking perfectly every time. 

So Dave’s goes a little faster, and Karkat moans as he does so, only encouraging Dave further. Dave can feel himself getting close, and he’s surprised he was able to last this long considering he hasn’t jerked off or anything for the last four days. He’s all pent up but because he’s able to set the pace, he’s able to keep edging himself, pulling Karkat off when he feels his release building up. 

“Karkat...” Dave moans, “h-hang on, baby, I’m—I’m close...just...nnnnghhh—“

Then Dave speeds up, pushing Karkat down onto his cock and bucking his hips upwards. Karkat loosens his grip, letting Dave move as he pleases. So Dave thrusts up into Karkat’s mouth, grunting and throwing his head back as he thrusts himself inside, gripping tight into Karkat’s curls as he fucks against the tight ring of muscle at the back of Karkat’s throat. 

“Fff-f-fuckk—oh, fuck, god—Karkat—baby, I’m gon—gonna cum—gonna c-cuumm—nhhahh—!”

Dave thrusts his hips up once more, pressing against Karkat’s face as he arches his back off the mattress and cums hard, his cock pulsing thickly deep within Karkat’s mouth. 

Karkat swallows it all down, and pulls off of Dave’s cock, his mouth dripping with saliva and Dave’s cum, his hair a mess from Dave’s vice-like grip, his cheeks flushed and his eyes hazy and dark. 

“H-holy fuck,” Dave pants, chest heaving. 

Dave lets go of Karkat’s hair to grab at his shoulder and tug weakly. “Kissmekissmekissme,” Dave gasps desperately.

-

Dave says his name like a mantra, calls him _baby_ , moans and gasps and whines and it’s the hottest thing Karkat’s ever heard. When Dave says he’s close Karkat lets up on his hips and allows him to thrust his hips up and Karkat can barely breathe but it’s so fucking good, his own hips thrust down again and again.

Dave cums in his mouth, buried to the hilt in Karkats throat, and he drinks down as much as he can until Dave is twitching, softening, and he pulls off. He probably looks like a mess but Dave doesn’t seem to care, weakly trying to drag Karkat up, begging to be kissed.

It’s surprising as fuck. Karkat expected some cuddles, reciprocation if he was lucky. He’s not used to people wanting to kiss him after he goes down on them but he’s not fucking complaining, not at all. He moves up Dave’s body to kiss him, hot and wet and open mouthed. He can’t help the jerking of his hips, rutting his dick against Dave’s thigh.

“Did so good, baby,” Karkat says. His voice sounds terrible, rough and ragged. “So fucking hot.”

He drops kisses all over Dave’s face, his nose and cheeks and chin, and rests their foreheads together as Dave comes down. Karkat smiles at his glazed eyes.

“I love your freckles,” he says, feeling sappy as shit. 

-

Karkat comes up and kisses him nice and sloppily and Dave groans as he tastes his own cum on Karkat’s tongue, fuck that’s fucking hot. Like a reminder of what just transpired. As if Dave needs it, after having what feels like the hardest, best fucking orgasm of his entire life.

“Holy fuck,” Dave says. He’s saying _holy fuck_ a lot but his brain isn’t exactly working properly right now so it’s the best he’s got.

He can feel Karkat’s cock pressed against his thigh, can feel Karkat thrusting his hips against his leg to get the friction he craves. The fuck kind of person would Dave be to leave him hanging? Plus, he really wants to see Karkat’s cock. Karkat’s seen his twice now and Dave’s never seen his—they had to even the score here.

“Lie down, Karks,” Dave says, still a little breathless, “Wanna return the favour.”

Karkat rolls onto his back beside Dave and Dave feels himself salivating again at the large tent in Karkat’s pyjama pants. Dave’s never given someone a blowjob before with a cast on, so this is going to be a learning curve. But he wants to make this good for Karkat, make him feel as good as he made Dave feel.

Dave sits up, tugging up his shorts and boxers as he situates himself between Karkat’s legs. Dave swallows, feeling his cheeks burn a little as he considers his limited options.

“A-actually,” Dave says quietly, “Sorry, um—maybe if you, uh...stand up? That would...work better.”

Dave awkwardly crawls out of the fort, and Karkat follows and gets to his feet with Dave kneeling in front of him. Okay. Okay. He could do this.

Dave realizes his shades are still on top of his head, miraculously. He pulls them away, wincing as it catches on his hair, and sets them down on the floor. Then he grabs the hem of Karkat’s pyjama pants and pulls them slowly down and over Karkat’s cock.

Dave pushes the pants halfway down Karkat’s legs and watches as Karkat’s hard dick springs free, inches away from Dave’s face.

Ohh fuck, that’s a thick cock.

Dave feels his own dick give a valiant but weak twitch just at the sight of it.

“Hel-lo there,” Dave breathes in awe.

He needs this cock in mouth right now, immediately. Dave might not have Karkat’s skill, and he’s even more limited in his abilities thanks to this fucking cast, but he’s got enthusiasm. So he’s gonna work with it.

Dave opens his mouth wide and takes the head of Karkat’s cock into his mouth, eyes slipping closed and a heady groan building in his throat just from the smell and the taste. He circles his tongue around in slow circles around the head, humming when he tastes a bead of precum on his tongue.

Dave pulls away and makes a show of licking his lips.

“Yummy,” he purrs, wrapping his hand around the base of Karkat’s cock and giving it a slow, shallow pump. A little payback for all those teasing touches from earlier. He looks up at Karkat through his lashes and smiles. “Just like the rest of you.”

He holds up Karkat’s heavy cock and runs a wide stripe underneath with the flat of his tongue. Dave sucks the head into his mouth once he gets back up to the tip, and then slowly starts to sink himself down.

Karkat is...substantial. Definitely the biggest cock Dave has had in his mouth, by far. It’s not as long as Dave’s own, but makes up for that with girth. Dave has to open his mouth wide as he can once his dick gets halfway down, feeling his lips stretching around the thickness.

Dave moans, loving the weight of it on his tongue. He could stay here all day, letting Karkat use him up, fuck into his mouth again and again until he was good and satisfied. Dave can’t quite get all the way to the base just yet, so he makes up for it with his hand, pumping his hand on the base while his tongue circles around the rest of his cock.

Dave pulls up and away with a soft gasp, his mouth already dripping.

“Fuck, you’re so big, baby,” Dave says huskily, looking back up at Karkat again. “Can barely get you down.”

Dave gives Karkat’s base a little squeeze and then pumps his hand a few times.

“But don’t worry,” Dave says, letting go and reaching for Karkat’s hand. “I’m nothing if not determined. Gonna take your cock just as good as you took mine.”

Dave guides Karkat’s hand into his hair, and kisses the tip of Karkat’s cock. “Keep me in place,” Dave says, “And I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Then, he sinks back down on Karkat’s cock again, trying this time to take him in a little farther, opening his mouth wide. He can feel his eyes prickling as his throat tries to resist. He looks up at Karkat with large eyes, like he’s begging for help.

-

Fuck fuck _fuck_. Karkat isn’t going to survive this. It’s bad enough that Dave’s _cute_ , nervous and awkward leading him out of the fort so Karkat can stand, but he’s also _hot as fuck_. Dave on his knees in front of him, peering up at Karkat through his lashes, is an image that will stick with Karkat for the rest of his life.

When Dave reaches up to grab his shades there’s a moment when Karkat’s heart plummets, thinking he’ll be denied the gift of seeing Dave’s eyes, but he just sets them aside. When Dave takes the head of his cock into his mouth Karkat’s eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as he moans loudly.

Dave seems to have trouble sinking down. Karkat isn’t long but he’s pretty thick. The one part of his body that he or his partners don’t mind. And Dave’s lips look so perfect stretched around him, his mouth feels so good, it’s like he was made for this exact moment. If Karkat was half as good at dirty talk as Dave seems to be he’d tell him this. But he’s not, so he keeps it to himself.

He whines, unabashed, at Dave’s teasing movements and bites his lip when Dave leads Karkat’s hand to his hair. God, fuck, okay. He can do this.

He grips Dave’s hair, keeping him from moving as Karkat pulls back. He thrusts in shallowly, slowly at first and then picking up speed, panting and gasping and moaning.

“Da- _aave_ ,” he says, voice breaking. “F-fuck, baby, feels amazing, you’re so fucking amazing, so fucking good.”

He can feel his orgasm building already; he’s been hard for so long now, rutting against the mattress gave him some relief but he feels the tell-tale warmth in his stomach, the shudder twisting up his spine. But he doesn’t want to cum yet, he wants to drag this out and enjoy it for as long as possible.

So he pulls his dick out of Dave’s mouth and tugs at his hair, angling his face up so Karkat can bend over and kiss him, tasting himself in Dave’s mouth. He keeps going until he’s sure he won’t cum the moment Dave runs his tongue over him again and pulls back, panting.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby,” he says, straightening up and guiding his dick back to Dave’s lips. Dave’s mouth falls open and Karkat presses back in with a moan. “Look great on your knees, honey.”

-

Karkat’s praise sinks deep into Dave’s bones and makes him feel warm and tingly all over, makes him want to try even harder to take Karkat’s cock the best that he can.

Karkat pulls his dick from Dave’s mouth and Dave is about to whine from the loss but then Karkat’s leaning down to kiss him and ohh, there’s another new one. Dave’s whine gets caught in his throat and his eyes flutter closed.

Then Karkat is pulling away, and guiding his cock back towards Dave’s mouth. Dave opens his mouth dutifully and Karkat presses himself inside, and Dave moans at the feeling.

Karkat calls him _honey_ and Dave whimpers around Karkat’s cock. He wraps his hand around the back of Karkat’s thigh and pushes, forcing himself deeper down onto Karkat’s cock.

Dave can feel his nose brush against the thatch of hair at the base of Karkat’s cock, and Dave makes a soft, happy sound. He looks up at Karkat, his eyes searching for more praise.

Before Karkat can say anything Dave starts to bob on his cock, pumping his head back and forth in quick succession, his nails digging into the flesh of Karkat’s thigh. His eyes sting as Karkat thrusts and hits the back of his throat, making tears spill over.

The second time he’s cried in front of Karkat. And this time he minds it even less.

Dave moans and whines as Karkat continues to thrust his cock into his mouth and Dave does his best to keep up, matching Karkat’s steady pace, trying to make him feel as good as he possibly can.

-

Dave is so fucking eager, pushing all of Karkat’s cock into his mouth and looking up with wide eyes, making Karkat’s heart stutter. Karkat’s hand finds its way back to Dave’s hair but he doesn’t keep him still this time, letting Dave slide up and down on his dick and meeting him with a thrust of his hips every time.

“Taking me so well, baby,” Karkat gasps out, enjoying the sting of Dave’s nails digging into him. He recalls Dave’s reaction to Karkat complimenting his music, his voice, his eyes, and something clicks in his head, probably much too late. A praise kink, huh? Karkat can work with that.

“Love your pretty eyes,” he says, reaching down to brush away some of the tears that spill over. “And the n-noises you make, fuck. Such a sweet voice. I could--nnhgn--listen to you talk for hours.”

God, he’s close again already. Fuck. So much for making this last. 

“Close, baby,” he breathes. “You gonna swallow me down?”

He thrusts harder, faster, and it doesn’t take long until his hand is clenching in Dave’s hair, muscles tensing as his mouth falls open and he groans, shooting onto Dave’s tongue. Dave sucks at him eagerly until he’s oversensitive and has to pull him off and tug him to his feet. He slips a hand around Dave’s waist and brings him closer, crashing their lips together and panting into his mouth.

-

Karkat asks if Dave will swallow him down and Dave makes an enthusiastic _mmmhmm_ sound, muffled by his mouth and throat full of cock.

Karkat picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster into Dave’s mouth and Dave moans, letting Karkat grip onto his hair and fuck his face until he cums. Dave drinks down every drop greedily, loving the taste because it’s Karkat—holy fuck, he just sucked Karkat’s cock and Karkat came in his mouth and he swallowed it and it was so fucking hot—

Karkat pulls his softening cock from Dave’s mouth and then yanks Dave up to his feet. Dave feels a tingle shoot up his spine as Karkat slips an arm around Dave’s waist and pulls him in close, kissing him deep and wet and messy, open-mouthed as they both gasp desperately for air.

Dave’s legs feel like jelly and his knees buckle underneath him, a mix of his recent orgasm (which he feels like he’s still coming down from) and from being on his knees for so long.

Dave clutches onto Karkat’s shoulder to keep himself upright as he pulls away from their kiss, gasping. “Wanna get our post-coital cuddle on in the blanket fort?” Dave croaks out. Fuck his voice is raspy, Karkat fucked his throat raw and it feels good.

-

Dave almost fucking topples over, grabbing onto Karkat’s shoulder for support, but Karkat’s got him by the waist and he won’t let any-fucking-thing happen to him. Dave mentions _cuddling_ in the blanket for and Karkat kisses him on the cheek, overjoyed. How the fuck did he get so lucky, having Dave be interested in him? (he’s not thinking about soulmates, he’s not, he won’t let himself ruin this--)

“Fuck yes, babe,” he says. “Cuddles incoming.”

He and Dave head back through the blanket flaps and Karkat pulls Dave right up against him the second he’s able to. He’s never dated anyone who really liked cuddling. They were either indifferent or actively disliked his weight on them, especially after sex. But Dave snuggles right up to him and it’s the best feeling in the world.

He smiles, dropping a kiss to Dave’s hair. 

-

Karkat agrees enthusiastically to cuddles, kissing Dave on the cheek and making Dave’s gay little heart fucking swell.

They’re quickly back inside the fort and Karkat pulls Dave closely against him and Dave nuzzles himself right in, cozy as all hell. Karkat presses a kiss to Dave’s hair and Dave makes a pleased little hum.

“If I knew it was gonna be that good,” Dave says, eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face, “I would have made a real move on you days ago.”

Dave twists and presses a kiss to Karkat’s chest, and it feels good not to have to try and be subtle about it this time, like when he kissed this same spot a few nights ago and desperately hoped Karkat wouldn’t notice.

He doesn’t have to worry about what is and isn’t platonic, where the boundaries lie, because...well, he just finished sucking Karkat’s dick. So all bets are off, it’s anyone’s game now. And Dave can’t wait to see how the rest plays out.

He’s so wrapped up in this afterglow bliss that nothing else matters to him in this moment. He’s not thinking about soulmates in the slightest bit, Dave’s just happy to be lying in Karkat’s arms with the knowledge he can kiss Karkat whenever he wants now. That when he thinks to himself how badly he wants to kiss him, that he can actually lean over and do it.

Dave presses more lazy little kisses to Karkat’s shoulder and collarbone, already knowing he’s absolutely addicted now that he’s gotten a taste.

“...S’nice to get to do this afterwards,” Dave mumbles into Karkat’s warm skin, “None of the other chucklefucks I’ve dabbled with over the years were interested. Just trying to get their rocks off and call it a day.”

Dave was, too, he supposes. It’s not like any of those relationships had been particularly serious. But still, he was admittedly really fucking touch-starved. So it would have been nice.

But Karkat makes up for all of that, and then some.

-

Karkat had forgotten how nice it is to just lay with someone, relaxed and trusting, skin flush against each other. It’s even better because it’s _Dave_ , and he’s dropping small, ticklish kisses along Karkat’s collarbone and being generally fucking adorable.

Karkat runs a hand along Dave’s spine, grinning and, for once, not feeling self conscious about it.

“Guess you have some time to make up for,” he says. He tucks Dave under his chin, enjoying the quiet moment. “I won’t be complaining.”

It’s getting harder to keep out the intrusive thoughts, however. About how he’s a shit person, taking advantage of Dave. How Dave wouldn’t want him if he knew, or how Dave isn’t _his_ , and Karkat’s being selfish and greedy.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Dave’s hair.

“No one I dated was interested in this part either,” he admits. “Kind of fucking sucked.”

But he has Dave now, wrapped up in him. He can’t imagine someone _not_ wanting to sweep Dave into their arms and hold him until they both fell asleep.

“Dunno how I got so lucky,” he says, rubbing his chin back and forth against Dave’s hair.

-

Dave wishes that he didn’t have to lay on his good arm in order to be in this position, because he wants to run his fingers up and down Karkat’s bare chest so that he can memorize all his curves.

Dave snickers a little as Karkat rubs his chin across Dave’s hair. “You hit me with a car, that’s how,” Dave says, cheeky.

Dave turns his head around to rest his cheek on Karkat’s shoulder, and opens his eyes. His eyes catch onto something on the inside of Karkat’s forearm he doesn’t remember being there before. It’s hard to see against Karkat’s darker skin, Dave’s only able to make out that something is there because they’re so close.

“Hey, what’s that?” Dave asks softly.

Then, his brain starts to play catch up. And suddenly he lives in a world where soulmates exist again. A world in which everyone’s words show up on the inside of their forearm, every time, without fail.

Dave’s heart plummets into his stomach.

 _No_.

Dave sits up suddenly, staring down at the faded words on Karkat’s arm. They’re so faint he can’t even tell what it says, but it’s undeniable.

Karkat has his soulmark. And it’s new.

“Is that...?” Dave’s voice comes out in a whisper as he reaches out his hand. His fingertips graze over the faded words, and that familiar bug-zapper tingle shots up Dave’s arm.

Dave thought he’d have a little bit more time. But the moment was already here. Karkat had met his soulmate.

Dave looks at Karkat with wide eyes. “When...when did it happen?”

Did it show up just now? Did Karkat even know about it? The words were barely even there, Dave couldn’t even read them, especially not in this light. Maybe Karkat hadn’t noticed himself, either.

Dave suddenly remembers back to Karkat’s words from the kitchen.

_Forget about my soulmate. It doesn’t matter._

Had Karkat seen the words before he came out and talked to Dave? Did he see the words last night? But then why? Why kiss Dave? Why let Dave kiss him? Why, if he knew who his soulmate was?

Why?

-

Karkat is so relaxed and happy that he doesn’t immediately recognize what’s happening, not until Dave sits up and stares, wide eyed. And then Karkat remembers that he’s fucking shirtless, that his new soulmark is on display. He’d thought that since it was still so light, barely there, that Dave wouldn’t notice it. Apparently he was fucking mistaken.

He freezes, unsure what to do. He could lie, but what would that accomplish? And could he really lie to Dave, his soulmate, about this?

“After I kissed you,” Karkat says quietly. Anxiety twists in his stomach, making him feel sick. “I noticed in the bathroom.”

Did Dave see what it says? Is that why he’s upset? Does he… does he regret what they did?

-

It was after Karkat kissed him?

Was it the universe trying to tell them that this was wrong? That the moment their lips touched, Karkat’s soulwords appeared, cementing the impossibility of them ever truly being together.

But this meant that Karkat came out of the bathroom knowing about his soulmate. It’s why he tried to apologize for kissing Dave.

_I shouldn’t have done that._

But then Karkat let Dave kiss him.

_What are you waiting for?_

So he was just trying to give Dave what Dave wanted, even though he knew who his soulmate was?

...It figures. Karkat was the kindest, most thoughtful and selfless person that Dave had ever known. Of course he would try and give Dave a little bit of happiness, even though he knew it would be betraying his soulmate.

Karkat was so kind.

Dave’s heart is breaking, sooner than he thought it would. But he should try and put on a brave face, for now. He should try and be happy for Karkat.

He can cry when he’s alone.

“What does it say? Were you able to tell yet?” Dave asks, and he hates that his voice is so small. “Do you know who it is?”

-

Dave doesn’t sound angry. He sounds… sad. Hurt. That Karkat didn’t tell him? Fuck. He never stops fucking up, does he?

“Yeah, I know who it is,” he says, swallowing nervously. His fingers come up to brush against his words, delicate and careful, handling something precious. 

“It says, uh,” just _spit it out_ Vantas. “It says _you’re beautiful._ ”

He watches Dave’s face carefully, but there’s no immediate epiphany that crosses his face. Which makes sense. He’d just been hit by a car at the time.

Karkat averts his eyes, staring down at his arm. 

“You said that to me,” he says. “It was the first thing you said.”

He braces for rejection.

-

_You’re beautiful._

Karkat looks up at Dave, and Dave stares back at him. Karkat’s eyes seem to search his for a moment before pulling away. He looks back down at his arm, his fingers gently trailing over the words again.

Dave feels his heart skip a beat when Karkat says that Dave was the one who said those words.

He doesn’t...remember. Dave keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to say anything stupid. He strains his brain, trying to remember back to the moment he first laid eyes on Karkat. What did he say?

Karkat, backlit by the twilight sun, looking down at Dave with a panicked, worried expression. His mouth moving as if in slow motion, but Dave can’t hear what he’s saying. What did he say? What did Dave say?

In that moment, Karkat really did look beautiful. So maybe Dave really did say it. And Karkat is saying he did, and Karkat wouldn’t lie, especially not about something like this. And the words on his arm are as much evidence as the rest of it.

It’s like static goes off in Dave’s brain whenever he tries to put the thought together in his mind. So instead, he tries to say it out loud.

“I’m your soulmate?”

But—

How could that be?

Striders don’t have soulmates.

Striders don’t _believe_ in soulmates.

If Dave was Karkat’s soulmate then...who was Dave’s?

Could he be bound to Karkat, but...not the other way around?

An unrequited bond.

But if Karkat wasn’t truly fated for Dave, didn’t that make the words a moot point? It meant that Karkat was right—it truly didn’t matter. Because Dave was his soulmate—

And Dave’s family line was cursed to never get one.

Karkat was stuck with a soulmate who was broken.

Dave looks down at his cast, and wishes more than anything he could grab a kitchen knife and start hacking and slashing at it until the plaster fell away and Dave could see if his words had shown up, too.

“Does it hurt? Is it like Umbridge’s freaky magic pen and the words show up on your skin one letter at time?”

The questions start falling frantically from Dave’s lips.

“What did it feel like? Did you get a sixth sense about it, like you knew it was about to happen, or did they just...show up? What was it _like_?”

_What does it mean if I’m your soulmate but you’re not mine?_

_What does it mean if your soulmate is someone whose family is cursed to be soulmateless?_

-

It’s not rejection.

Karkat doesn’t know what it is.

Dave struggles, for a long few moments. He’s quiet. It’s unnerving. So far Karkat’s only seen Dave quiet when he’s incredibly relaxed or incredibly tense, and there’s nothing relaxing about this situation.

When the floodgates open and Dave’s questions tumble from his mouth in a barrage, Karkat is relieved. Relieved and anxious and scared, because while Dave may not be rejecting him outright, he also doesn’t seem _happy_.

“It didn’t hurt,” Karkat says slowly, furrowing his eyebrows. He owes Dave answers, and he’ll give them. These just… aren’t the kind of questions he was expecting. 

“It didn’t feel like anything. I check my arm every night and morning and it was habit to look down, and it was just there.”

What was it like? It was gutting, crushing, but only because he thought Dave didn’t want him. He still doesn’t know if it’s requited, but Dave _wanting him back_ lessens the sting. Even if it means that one day someone will swoop in and steal Dave away from him. If Karkat hasn’t lost him already.

-

It didn’t hurt. There didn’t seem to be any kind of unique or adverse sensation, anything that would give Dave a clue that he might have words, too.

His arm was itchy earlier, but Karkat didn’t mention anything about an itch. So maybe that was Dave’s arm just getting itchy from how sweaty it is under the cast and nothing more.

If it feels like nothing, maybe Dave does have soulwords, too. But he won’t be able to see one way or the other until his cast comes off. How long would that be?

“I’m your soulmate.” Dave says the words again, stating like a fact instead of asking it like a question this time. Like he’s trying to make the statement make sense to himself.

He looks between Karkat, Karkat’s arm, and his own arm.

“I’m your soulmate.”

Dave lifts up his cast and flexes his fingers, frowning.

“Fuck this stupid fucking cast,” Dave grumbles.

Karkat would check for his words every night. Dave never had such a habit. He’s never bothered to check for words before, but now it’s eating him alive.

Dave’s head shoots up as thought occurs to him. Dave scrambles out of the fort, going into the kitchen and opening up a drawer. He comes back into the fort with a black Sharpie marker, and holds it out to Karkat.

“Sign my cast,” Dave tells him, “With the first words you said to me.”

Even if Dave’s arm was still blank when Dave got his cast off, at least in the meantime he could play pretend. And live in a world where he wasn’t cursed to have Karkat not be his soulmate.

-

Karkat is still lost as Dave repeats _I’m your soulmate_ to himself, like he doesn’t believe it, despite the words on Karkat’s arm. Karkat bites his lip to keep himself from interrupting… whatever this is. Dave’s odd processing. 

He stares after Dave when he bolts from the fort, disappointment crashing over him. Should he go after him? Should he give him space? Karkat doesn’t know.

Before he can make a decision, though, Dave is back, triumphantly wielding a Sharpie and telling Dave to write his words on his cast. 

Karkat’s chest fills with hope since the first time Dave saw his words. This is a good thing, right? He gently takes the marker, uncapping it and writing _I think you have a concussion_ in his messy scrawl on the cast. When he’s done he caps the marker and tosses it aside.

He looks at Dave, feeling exposed and shy and vulnerable.

“Does this mean you want to be my soulmate too?” he asks, hesitant. 

-

Dave watches as Karkat writes on his cast, his heart thudding in his ears. When Karkat finishes, Dave looks down at his arm and grins. Yeah, that tracks.

Dave looks back up at Karkat, who looks...anxious and expectant. Dave sits down on his heels and offers Karkat a soft smile.

“If I do have a soulmate,” Dave says, “I would really, really want it to be you, Karkat.”

Before Dave can lose his nerve, he leans forward and presses his lips softly against Karkat’s.

_I want you to be my soulmate._

_I want a soulmate. I don’t want to end up like my brother._

_I want you to be fated for me just as much as I’m fated for you. You don’t deserve an unrequited bond, Karkat. It’s not fair. It’s cruel. Please, I want you to be my soulmate…_

_Even if we have to pretend._

-

Relief washes over him so fast at Dave’s words that he gets dizzy. This isn’t helped when Dave leans forward for a kiss.

Dave _wants to be his soulmate_. He’s not upset; about the fact that Karkat didn’t tell him or that he’s _Karkat’s_ soulmate. Because for some reason Dave thinks he’s worthwhile. He likes Karkat. 

He wants to be Karkat’s soulmate.

Does it matter, if he’s not? If he’s right and he doesn’t have a soulmate? Isn’t it enough that Dave is choosing him, that Dave wants him instead of anyone else? Dave is so beautiful, so funny and sweet and kind that he could have his pick of anyone, but he wants _Karkat_.

Karkat has to pull back from the kiss first, because he’s smiling too wide. He wraps his arms around Dave and tugs him into his chest in a crushing hug, hiding his face in Dave’s neck.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he says. “I’m glad you’re my soulmate. I’m so _fucking lucky_ that it’s you.”

-

Certainly not for the first time today, Dave wishes his stupid elbow wasn’t broken so he could wrap both arms around Karkat and hug him back.

Dave does his best with one arm, wrapping it around Karkat’s shoulder and kissing Karkat’s hair as Karkat squeezes Dave tight.

Karkat thinks he’s lucky to have Dave as a soulmate? He seems so relieved, so happy that it’s Dave. And Dave hopes that he really does have Karkat’s words on his arm, not even for his own benefit, but just to see Karkat’s face light up with a smile like that again.

“I’m glad I’m your soulmate, too,” Dave says softly, pressing his lips into Karkat’s hair again and again.

He pulls away a little bit, and gives Karkat a cheeky grin, lifting an eyebrow curiously. “You wouldn’t happen to have one of those fancy doctor saws so we can cut this stupid cast off early, do you?”

-

Dave is _glad_. He’s _glad_ he’s Karkat’s soulmate.

Karkat can’t wrap his head around it. If he weren’t tethered to Dave he thinks he might float away, the bubble of joy expanding in his chest is so overwhelming.

For a moment he considers it. Breaking open Dave’s cast to see if the words are on his skin as well as the plaster. He imagines seeing them scrawled on Dave’s pale, freckled arm; imagines kissing each letter.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he grouses. “I’m here to take care of you, not enable your terrible ideas. Do you have any sense of self-preservation at all? That cast is staying right the fuck there until your arm is fully healed.”

Despite his words he leans in to peck Dave on the lips. He can do that now. He can kiss Dave any time he wants and Dave will kiss him back. He is going to take full fucking advantage of this.

He pushes Dave onto his back and rolls over, half on top of him. He drops a few lazy kisses to his sternum, hand tracing the curve of ribs he can feel.

“I’m going to make you so much fucking food,” he decides. “You’re going to get sick of it. No more fast food garbage; you’re having a home cooked dish for every meal until you want to murder me.”

-

Dave was mostly kidding about getting the cast off, and he knew Karkat would shoot his idea right down (mother hen that he is), but Dave still pouts a little anyway. He looks down at his cast, at the words scrawled across the red tape fibres in black marker, in Karkat’s handwriting.

Then Karkat’s leaning in and kissing Dave and pushing down onto his back and thoughts of getting his cast off go out of Dave’s mind. Dave makes little hums and groans under Karkat’s attention, squirming beneath his hands.

“If I ever make threats on your life for any reason, especially when you’re putting a delicious home-cooked meal in front of me, put me in a goddamn asylum.” Dave says. Then he grins down crookedly at Karkat, eyes glinting with mischief. “Probably for the best if we avoid the fast food, anyway. I heard ya struggling in the bathroom the other night.”

-

Karkat scoots more of his weight onto Dave, pinning him down even more so he can run his fingers along the soft skin of his sides. He uses enough pressure that it hopefully doesn’t tickle, but so that it’s a near thing, and watches with delight as goose bumps raise across Dave’s skin.

He’s confused for a long moment at Dave’s words, brows furrowing. When he realizes what Dave’s referring to heat bursts across his cheeks. He hides his face in Dave’s chest and groans.

“I wasn’t _shitting_ , you obtuse cretinous asswad,” he says. Then reconsiders. Is it more embarrassing to let Dave assume that or tell him he was jerking off? “...Nevermind. That’s exactly what I was doing.”

-

Well now _that_ was a weird response.

Dave stares up at the ceiling, or rather the ceiling made out of blankets, watching the early afternoon sunbeams get diffused by the fabric.

“...you weren’t having the McShits?” Dave says.

He lifts his head up slightly and quirks an inquisitive brow at Karkat. “Then what was all that grunting about?”

-

Please just let him die. If there is any higher power in the universe, let it be merciful and strike him down now. Put him out of his misery.

…

He sighs, accepting his fate when no bolt of lightning pierces the sky and breaks through the ceiling to kill him instantly.

“You were touching my _neck_ ,” he complains, embarrassed. “You were being all fucking sweet and playing with my hair and touching my fucking neck and I was hornier than I’ve been since I was thirteen and learned what my dick was for, so I fucking jacked off in your bathroom like a degenerate dumbfuck.”

He groans again. “I thought I was being quiet but I guess fucking not. Figures.”

-

Ohhh.

Oh, wow.

Dave’s vivid imagination instantly paints a picture of Karkat furiously jacking off into the toilet because he was so pent up from Dave’s touch. The fact that Karkat literally had to excuse himself to go and take care of business, all because of what Dave was doing to him...

“ _Baby_ ,” Dave breathes, awed, “That’s so fucking hot.”

Dave leans down and pecks the top of Karkat’s head, then runs his fingers through his hair, tucking some loose curls behind his ear.

“Well, since we’re confessing things,” Dave says, and then he drops his voice to a hushed whisper. “The first time you gave me a head massage, I was _rock hard_ under that blanket. Honestly thought I was going to cum untouched.”

-

Karkat’s first thought is that it’s not _hot_ , it’s fucking embarrassing and weird. Then Dave continues and that goes out the window because holy _fuck_ , that’s the hottest thing Karkat’s ever heard.

He lifts his head to stare at Dave with wide, dark eyes. He hadn’t been doing anything special, just trying to relieve Dave’s pain, but that was enough to get him hard? 

He pushes himself up to get at Dave’s mouth for another hungry kiss, throwing his leg over Dave’s hips to crawl on top of him. The thought of Dave cumming untouched is seriously doing something for him. This is an avenue Karkat would _definitely_ like to explore.

It’s a shame he’s still spent. His dick gives a brave, determined twitch, but he can’t get it up again just yet. And unless Dave has an incredible refractory period, he likely won’t be able to either. But he won’t know unless he tries.

“Think you could do that, baby?” he asks, running a hand through Dave’s hair, rubbing circles at his temple. “Cum untouched for me?”

-

Karkat looks up at him and his expression looks… _hungry_. Dave’s stomach flip-flops as Karkat pushes himself up and presses their lips together. The kiss is deep and practically possessive and Dave is absolutely down for wherever this is headed. Karkat pins Dave down to the mattress with his weight and Dave groans through the kiss, and when Karkat pulls away his eyes flutter open to look up at him expectantly.

Karkat runs a hand through Dave’s bangs, pushing his hair out of his eyes and then rubbing circles into Dave’s temple with his thumb. Dave’s eyelids flutter, and he pushes his head into Karkat’s hand, his body actively seeking out the touch.

His entire body shivers harshly at Karkat’s question, his words dripping down and running all over Dave’s body like warm, sweet syrup.

“G-given the right motivation...I might be inclined to give it a shot...” Dave forces out, biting at his lip. Then he lets out a little scoff. “Heheh...shot.”

-

Dave pushes into his touch like a kitten and it makes Karkat feel soft, makes his heart melt. He rolls his eyes fondly at Dave’s immature pun and trails a finger from Dave’s collarbone to the waistband of his shorts.

It’s a powerful feeling, watching Dave’s pupils dilate, swallowing up the red until there’s just a thin ring left. He drags his hand back up, continuing past his collarbone to trace the marks on Dave’s neck. It’s a mess and it’s lovely. Karkat will never let Dave walk around without them again.

“These look good on you,” he says, tapping a finger against them. A smile threatens to break out across his face and he doesn’t bother trying to stop it. “Makes you look like mine.”

“What can I do to motivate you?” he asks.

-

_Makes you look like mine._

Dave shudders from a mixture of Karkat’s warm hands feeling him all over and his words.

He was Karkat’s. He was his soulmate, after all, so it stood to reason that automatically made Dave belong to Karkat. And what a thought that is, getting to be only Karkat’s. And Karkat is clearly interested in the concept, too, if the marks on Dave’s neck and thighs have anything to say about it. Not to mention the hungry look in Karkat’s eyes right now as he considers the sort of power he has over Dave.

Karkat asks Dave what his motivation is. Does that mean Dave can ask for _anything_?

Suddenly there’s so many options available that Dave can’t think of a single one. Dave chews on his lip again as he tries to think.

“If I can do it,” Dave says, “Then you show me that book you’re writing.”

-

Karkat freezes. 

Of all the things Dave could have asked for, he asks to see Karkat’s _writing_? His stupid, garbagey, plothole filled story that only Kanaya has laid eyes on. She said she liked it, let Karkat bounce ideas off of her, let him rant about themes and character growth and motifs. But of course she did, she’s _Kanaya_.

Dave isn’t Kanaya. Dave is a natural storyteller, he weaves words together and sets them to music, and isn’t afraid to show his creativity to the world. It’s not the same as writing a novel but Dave has _talent_ in a way that Karkat doesn’t.

“Why the fuck would you want _that_?” he asks. His voice sounds too defensive. He bites his lip. He wonders if Dave knows just how impossible it is for Karkat to say no to him. 

-

Dave blinks, confused. “Well, you made it sound like I could ask for whatever I wanted,” he says, “And I want to see your writing.”

Maybe he should have asked for something else? Karkat seemed like he was pretty protective about his writing, it was probably super personal to him. Dave constantly forgets the fact he’s only known Karkat for four days, and that asking for stuff like that might just be crossing the line.

It’s hard to remember when it felt like he’d known Karkat all his life. But he’d shared some pretty personal shit with Karkat that not even John knew about, so maybe Karkat could throw him a fucking bone.

Is Karkat worried Dave will laugh at him? That he won’t think it’s any good? Karkat’s great with words, and he’s got such a big goddamn heart, Dave is certain he could tell some incredible love stories. There’s no reason for him to get all defensive and shy about it.

Dave supposes he’s got no other choice. He’s gonna lay on the Strider Charm.

“ _Please_ , darlin’?” Dave begs, tilting his head to the side because he’s really milking it. “I really wanna see. I wanna know everything there is to know about you, so I want to see what kind of stuff you write about.”

-

“You’re such a little shit,” Karkat whines, hiding his face in Dave’s neck. “Weaponizing that accent. Fuck you.”

He sighs. He wants to know everything about Dave, too. Wants to know him inside and out. Dave’s voice calling him _darlin’_ ’ echoes in his head. Fuck, he’s so whipped, isn’t he?

“Fine, goddammit,” he relents. “If you really need to set your eyes on my piece of shit story, knock yourself out. But it’s a fucking mess so don’t get your hopes up.”

-

Dave grins. Fuck yeah, success. It’s fun having Karkat wrapped around his finger. But he likes being wrapped around Karkat’s, too.

“You’ll only have to show me if I can pull it off,” Dave says, “so you could just not try very hard on purpose.”

Dave gives Karkat’s earlobe a little pull. “But that doesn’t sound very on brand for you, to not give something your all.”

-

Karkat scowls, doing his best not to let it show how much Dave’s touch affects him.

“Like I would fucking halfass this,” he scoffs. He nips at Dave’s neck reproachfully. “I’ll have you know that I’m taking this very fucking seriously.”

He’s going to make Dave feel _good_ , going to make him shudder and tremble and cum without ever touching his dick. His own dick is slowly, very slowly, starting to take interest again. 

Karkat pushes himself up and off of Dave, grabbing the pillows to set himself propped up against the couch again. He splays his legs, reaching out to Dave.

“Come here, babe, sit up against me,” he says. 

-

Karkat sets himself up against the couch like he was the night before, and Dave eagerly joins him, leaning up against Karkat’s chest like Karkat tells him to.

And, because he can now, Dave turns his head and presses a kiss to Karkat’s jaw before he nuzzles his nose into Karkat’s neck. He’s already squirming against Karkat, eager to see what he has in store to make Dave feel so good he cums without his dick even being touched.

The thought alone makes Dave bite his lip and squeeze his legs together as his dick takes an interest. Thank goodness for his speedy recovery times. It had come in handy in the past with partners disinterested in cuddling. Dave would just take a breather, go slam a few glasses of water, and then get back to it. But now, it means his body can get truly pent up under Karkat’s touch.

-

Dave eagerly cuddles up against him and it’s sweet and perfect. He kisses Karkat’s jaw and rubs his face into his neck and Karkat loves him so much.

But he suddenly doesn’t know what to do. He’s never made someone cum untouched before. How the fuck do you even go about that? He tries to think about what he was doing before to get Dave hard, but it was just a head massage. Soft touches, pressure points to relieve pain. He frowns.

He’ll just… figure it out as he goes, he guesses. It’s a good opportunity to learn Dave’s body, what he likes.

He presses a kiss to Dave’s temple, sliding his hands lightly across his sides, dipping his fingers in Dave’s waistband. And snapping the elastic.

“Let’s get these off you,” he says. Dave lifts his hips and Karkat pushes them down until Dave can kick them off. And then Dave is entirely naked, pressed up against Karkat’s chest.

He traces Dave’s hip bone and slides his hands along Dave’s thighs, encouraging him to spread his legs. He presses down on one of the marks with his thumb, watching the color change when he lets up. He smiles, kissing Dave’s shoulder, then bites it, just enough to be teasing.

“Do you like being marked up, baby?” he asks. “Help me out here. What gets you going?”

-

Ohhhh christ, they are off to the fucking races and Dave feels like he’s bet on every horse. Because no matter what Karkat does it’s a fucking winner.

Dave presses his lips together as Karkat pushes his thumb into one of the bruises on the inside of Dave’s thigh, and then jumps a little from the bite on his shoulder.

“I—I like it,” Dave stammers out, voice already breathy and wanting and they’ve only just begun. “Let’s people know I’m _yours_.”

That’s right. He belonged to Karkat. He was Karkat’s soulmate. If Dave couldn’t have a soulmark then Karkat could mark him up in other ways.

“I really liked it when you touched my...my ears,” Dave admits, feeling his cheeks burn from the confession. “That’s what made me so hard the first time...”

-

Possessiveness flares through Karkat when Dave says _I’m yours_. They don’t know it yet, not for sure, but the more time passes the more sure Karkat becomes that it doesn’t matter. Dave is _his_ , words or no words.

“Yeah, honey, you’re mine,” he says. “And I’m yours, for as long as you want me. Are you gonna give me love bites too? Make my neck look as pretty as yours?”

He dips down, working on making Dave’s hickeys darker as he talks. He laughs lightly into Dave’s neck, one hand coming up to rub around Dave’s ear.

“You have cute ears,” he says. “They get nice and red when you blush.”

Like now. Karkat moves up and licks playfully at the shell of his ear, then takes it between his teeth and tugs. He sucks the earlobe into his mouth and rolls the other one between his fingers. His other hand explores the crease of Dave’s thigh, close to his dick but not close enough. 

He peeks down, pleased to see that Dave is fully hard. There’s a little bead of precum on the head and Karkat can still taste Dave’s cum in his mouth. He’s tempted to swipe it with his finger and lick it off, but that would defeat the purpose of this whole experience.

-

Dave can barely think straight, blood rushed to his dick so fucking fast the moment Karkat started to speak and put his lips and hands on him that Dave can’t string thoughts together anymore. His dick fully hard again, and already leaking precum.

Dave shivers from Karkat’s words— _I’m yours, for as long as you want me_ —and from Karkat’s mouth on his hickeys from earlier. Karkat wants Dave to mark him up, too? Even though they don’t know if Dave has Karkat’s words on his arm, yet?

Having his ears be called cute should _not_ make him so horny, what the fuck. But when Karkat says it, it sounds so sexy. Dave squirms and whines as Karkat licks at the shell of his ear, and gasps as he bites and pulls in his earlobe. It makes his ears tingle with an indescribable heat. It tickles in the best kind of way, it makes Dave squirm with every little lick and bite and kiss.

He already wants Karkat to touch him so badly. Dave is certain Karkat could easily get him to cum if he just reached around Dave and pumped his cock a few times in that big, warm hand of his.

Dave bucks his hips upwards, thrusting into nothing, his body aching out for friction but finding only air. Dave whimpers, slumping back down. He buries his face into Karkat’s neck and lets out a long, desperate moan.

He needed to rile Karkat up so that Karkat would touch him more so that Dave could cum. Karkat said he wanted love bites, so that’s what Dave will do. He licks a thick stripe up Karkat’s neck, breathing ragged. Then he follows the trail with small, quick little bites, warming the skin up. Dave picks a spot, right in the middle of Karkat’s neck where the mark would be on full display, and bites down.

He darts out his tongue, flickering it against the skin between his teeth as he sucks it into his mouth. Dave repeats the maneuver several times until he pulls away, mouth slick with saliva. There’s a large red mark glistening under a layer of spit on Karkat’s neck. Dave licks the spot clean.

Then he picks another spot on Karkat’s neck, and begins the process all over again, moaning softly in his throat the entire time. Just the thought of Karkat’s neck being all marked up because of him makes Dave’s cock twitch and Dave gets even more desperate to cum.

-

Karkat thinks that having Dave squirming against him might be the best feeling in the world, until Dave starts biting and sucking at his neck. He moans, loud and unabashed, feeling blood flowing to his dick. It’s so fucking good, so sensitive, it’s almost too damn much.

He jerks his hips up, rubbing his cock against Dave, and the dual sensation is delicious. Dave’s hips keep rolling up, searching for something that isn’t there, and the knowledge that Karkat gets to have all the wonderful friction he wants while Dave is denied is so. Fucking. Hot.

He grabs Dave’s hips, forcing them against him, fingers digging hard into soft skin, and grinds his dick up. He hopes his fingerprints are bruised into Dave, further proof that Dave is his.

“F-fuck, babe,” he stutters out. “Thought this was about _you_.”

It feels greedy. The attention should be on Dave, working him up so much he can’t control himself. Karkat runs a big hand up Dave’s chest and pinches his nipple between his fingers. Dave seemed to like that before, so he runs his thumbnail over the little nub, rolls and tugs and pinches while Dave laps at his neck.

-

Karkat grabs at Dave’s hips and grinds into Dave’s back, his fingers digging deliciously into Dave’s sides and making a stuttered moan break out of Dave’s mouth.

Dave jolts as Karkat starts playing with one of his nipples—should he get nipple piercings? Fuck they were so sensitive, nobody ever paid attention to them like Karkat did. Would Karkat like if he got his nipples pierced?

“Y-you t-oolld me to ma-mark you uuuup—“ Dave forces out between little hitched gasps and moans.

God, fuck, the way Karkat wants to cover Dave in love bites, the way he grabs Dave’s hips like he has every intention to leave bruises, the way he says _you’re mine_...Karkat has a fucking Thing for possession and Dave is one-hundred percent here for it. That is the hottest fucking shit.

Dave wants Karkat to pin him down and make him his, to claim him—make Dave so utterly and completely Karkat’s that it won’t matter if Dave has words appear on his arm or not. He’ll belong to Karkat entirely. Mind, body and soul.

“K-Karrrkat...” Dave whines, arching his back the best he can while Karkat still has a vice grip on his hips.

-

Karkat drinks up Dave’s little whines and whimpers like he’s dying of thirst. He’s so damn reactive; Karkat hasn’t been with anyone who squirms and jolts so much from so little.

“I did, didn’t I?” Karkat says, amused. He gasps as Dave grinds back into him, biting his lip. Focus on Dave. Focus on Dave, Vantas, not yourself. “And you did it so well, baby. Gave me some nice big marks, I can feel them.”

He can. They throb incredibly on his neck, and Karkat can’t wait to see them in the mirror, see another piece of Dave on him, this one willingly given, not taken by fate.

He bites down hard on Dave’s shoulder, right where it meets his neck. Not enough to break skin but enough to make Dave gasp in surprise. He laves his tongue over the spot.

“Wanna put my marks all over you,” he admits. “Wanna make you _mine_.”

He presses a light kiss just under Dave’s ear; a sharp contrast to how rough he’s been, leaving bruises all over, abusing Dave’s chest and biting at his shoulder. 

“You’re amazing, Dave,” he pants, grinding his hips up. He watches Dave’s cock bob in the air, remembering how it felt on his tongue. “So beautiful and kind and talented and funny.”

He grabs at Dave’s leg, pulling them further apart, and slips his hand between them, past his balls. He presses hard with the pads of his fingers against Dave’s perineum, hoping to stimulate his prostate from the outside. He’s never tried this before; his previous sexual encounters were always ‘peg A goes into slot B’. They were nothing like this.

-

Karkat’s praise mixed with his bruising bites and soft, gentle kisses drive Dave crazy. He leans his head back on Karkat’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open as he pants, whines, and moans with every touch, every syllable that comes out of Karkat’s mouth.

It’s like Karkat wouldn’t even need to touch him anywhere, he could just whisper into Dave’s ear and Dave would cum. Dave ought to tell Karkat that sometime—he’s certain Karkat would be very interested in testing that theory.

Karkat calls him _amazing, beautiful, kind, talented, funny_ —Dave writhes against Karkat’s touch, like the words are slamming down into him and shooting right to his dick.

Karkat pulls his legs apart and Dave spreads them further, trying to be helpful. He’s not sure what Karkat plans to do if he isn’t going to be touching his dick. He pries open his eyes as curiosity overtakes him, and watches as Karkat’s hand travels down and—

“Oohhh fuck,” Dave groans, hips bucking down against Karkat’s hand as presses into Dave’s perineum. “B-babyyy...”

Technically it wasn’t his dick, so it wasn’t cheating, and Dave would take whatever he could get. He grinds himself down onto Karkat’s fingers, his head knocking back. He brings up his right arm and hooks it behind Karkat’s head and grabs at his curls, seeking out something to latch onto as he writhes and pants and moans loudly.

“M-moree, baby,” Dave begs, “Please, Kat, please...”

-

Hhhhnnnngggg Dave’s hand tugging desperately at his hair makes Karkat whine into his ear, hips bucking up. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he says. “You need more? I’ll give you more.”

He presses harder, rubbing his fingers in small, quick circles, then switching it up and stroking along the skin there. He nips and licks at Dave’s ear, loving the sounds he makes, the way he twitches and shakes, how he moans Karkat’s name.

He’ll never tire of hearing Dave call him _baby_.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Cum for me.”

-

Karkat starts a ruthless grind into Dave’s perineum, switching between small, fast circles and slow, long strokes. It’s a good thing Dave has Karkat to brace himself up against because holy fucking shit his entire body is falling to pieces under Karkat’s touch, everywhere Karkat’s hands are feels like fire, he’s oversensitive in every nerve ending. Dave gasps and cries out, writhes and bucks, then pressing back against Karkat with a desperate keen when it’s too much, he can’t thrust into his fingers anymore, his nerve endings fried, overstimulated—but Karkat keeps going, pushing Dave over that edge while whispering in his ear.

So when Karkat tells him to cum, Dave does, gasping as his hips jerk upwards and his flushed cock twitches and cum streaks across his belly and chest. Dave whimpers, twisting his head to press desperate, sloppy kisses to Karkat’s neck over and over.

“Baby, baby—oh, fuck—K-Karkat—“ Dave pants as his hips drop back down to the mattress, “holy fucking shit—“

-

Dave is gorgeous when he cums, face screwed up, mouth hanging open in a wordless gasp. Karkat wants to take a picture, wants to be able to look and see this beautiful image whenever he pleases. Dave’s body is wracked in shudders, and he falls back, trembling, when it’s over.

He kisses Karkat’s neck, sending little bolts of pleasure down his spine. He’s still so fucking hard, so turned on, but this is about Dave. He runs a calming hand up and down Dave’s side while the other rubs across the smears of cum on Dave’s stomach, making a mess.

“You did great, baby,” Karkat says. “Can’t believe you did it, you’re so amazing. Incredibly perfect.”

When his fingers are coated nicely with Dave’s cum he brings his hands to Dave’s lips, pushing them inside.

“Come on, baby, open up,” he urges, pressing the pads of his fingers to Dave’s tongue. “You taste so good, don’t you?”

-

Karkat keeps praising him even once it’s over, telling Dave how great he did, and if Dave wasn’t already so spent from cumming twice all this praise would quickly rev him right back up again. But now all he can do is whine weakly into Karkat’s neck, shivering as Karkat runs his hands over his body, talking him down from his high.

Dave’s eyes flutter open when he feels Karkat pressing his fingers into his mouth, and his gut squirms with arousal when he sees Karkat has his cum all over his fingers—and is about make Dave lick it off.

Fuuuuuuuucccccccckkk.

Just when he thinks Karkat can’t get any fucking hotter, he goes and surprises him again.

Dave closes his mouth around Karkat’s fingers, eyes fluttering closed in pure fucking bliss. Then he opens his mouth and lets it hang open, trying to put on as good of a show as he can of lapping his cum from Karkat’s fingers until they’re all clean.

He’s already cum twice in the last hour, he feels so fucked out and hazy and happy. But Dave can feel that Karkat is fully hard again against his back, and Dave wants him to feel just as good as he does, wants them both fucked out and exhausted until they collapse together in a sweaty heap.

Dave rolls his hips, pressing up against Karkat’s cock as he presses a kiss to Karkat’s neck. “Karkat, baby,” Dave whispers, “please, please fuck me...”

-

Karkat shivers, the idea of burying himself inside Dave, of being connected to him in such an intimate way, entirely overwhelming. His dick pulses and he licks a stripe up Dave’s neck to distract himself from saying _yes god yes please_.

“You _just_ came, baby,” he says instead. “Don’t you want to rest? I can take care of myself.”

He doesn’t fucking _want_ to. He wants to fuck into Dave, hips bucking, and listen to his desperate, overstimulated sounds. Would Dave even be able to get hard again? Or would he let Karkat use him as he needed, his dick traitorously soft as Karkat pounds into him?

-

Dave shivers as Karkat licks his neck, and he rolls his hips again, groaning weak and soft as he grinds back against Karkat’s thick, hard cock. Karkat, of course, is trying to look out for Dave, and says he can take care of himself. But Dave won’t have it. He doesn’t need to rest, he wants to make sure Karkat feels good. Dave sits forward a little so he can keep his ass pressed against Karkat’s dick but still be able to look over his shoulder at Karkat.

Look. He might have discovered that Karkat seems to have a pretty hard time telling Dave no, at least when it comes to shit like this. He’s able to put his foot down when it really matters, but Dave is certain if he begs a little he can get his way on this.

“Baby, you already jerked off once without me,” Dave says, and he says this like it’s the ultimate betrayal. His lip sticks out in a pout. “You’d really go and just take care of it yourself in the bathroom? Or even worse, stay here and make me watch?”

Dave bucks his hips backwards again, and lets out a whine he doesn’t even need to exaggerate. “That’s just cruel, baby. I was _good_ , and came untouched. I thought of something else you can give me, aside from showing me your writing...”

Dave twists around and leans in to catch Karkat’s mouth in a deep, desperate kiss. He pulls away but keeps his lips inches away from Karkat’s as he reaches down between them and grabs Karkat’s hardened bulge through his pants. Dave kisses along Karkat’s jaw and then leans close and whispers in his ear.

“ _Your big cock deep inside me_.”

-

Karkat’s eyes flutter shut when Dave grabs his dick. There’s too much fucking fabric between them; he wants to feel Dave’s hand around him without a barrier again.

Dave is so _unfair_ , pouting and grinding and twisting Karkat further around his little finger. Karkat is so damn weak, how could he say no to this? How could he say no to Dave _ever_? And Dave seems to have realized this peculiar inability, using it against him like he’s just been waiting for this chance.

“Fu-uuck,” he groans. “Fine, _fine_ , you unbelievable little shit.”

He tries to think, get his head on straight for a few seconds but it’s difficult with Dave’s hand palming him through his pants. 

“Lube,” he gasps out. “Condom?”

Karkat’s clean, he knows it, but Dave might not be and even if he is, he might not want the mess.

-

Dave grins when Karkat gives in. He’s trying to be a grump about it and that’s adorable—he must know that Dave’s caught on to his little Achilles’ heel.

Dave’s little grin becomes even more mischievous. He wonders just how far he can push, how much Karkat would be willing to do just because Dave asked him. He just discovered this little superpower of his and he’s already abusing it, but he doesn’t much care.

“Everything should be in my bedside table. Finally get to use that lube for its intended purpose, huh?” Dave huffs out a little laugh as he peppers little kisses across Karkat’s jaw. “Can you go get it for me, baby? I don’t think I’ll be able to walk. Got me all weak-kneed and jelly-legged and you haven’t even put your cock in me yet.”

-

Any feigned annoyance melts away at the cute kisses Dave drops along his jaw. 

“Yeah, baby, I got it,” he says, grabbing Dave’s waist and moving him off and to the side. He leans down for a quick kiss of his own.

He’s surprised at how much lighter the air feels outside of the fort, how much the smell of sex has built up inside of it. He quickly goes into Dave’s room and rifles around the bedside table, raising his eyebrows but otherwise ignoring the toys he sees there. That’s something to explore another time.

He returns to the living room, condom and lube in hand. His nerves have started to come back, which is incredibly fucking stupid, but that’s anxiety for you.

He ducks back into the fort and breathes in the intoxicating smell. Dave hasn’t moved from where he put him before. Karkat rewards him with another kiss.

“How do you wanna do this, baby? Wanna ride me?” he asks. He likes the idea of Dave sitting on his dick, forcing himself to move through the overwhelming sensations to make Karkat cum. “Want me on top? Talk to me.”

Karkat uncaps the lube and puts a generous amount on his fingers. He sits back and spreads Dave’s legs apart, fingers searching until he finds his entrance. He should drag this out, open Dave up slowly, but he’s too fucking impatient. He slips in a second finger almost immediately after the first, scissoring his fingers inside of him.

-

Karkat wastes no fucking time working Dave open, and Dave certainly isn’t complaining about his eagerness. It’s sexy as hell, and having Karkat’s big fingers stretching him open feels fucking heavenly.

Dave hasn’t fingered himself for several days by this point, and his own fingers aren’t as big as Karkat’s so two of Karkat’s fingers feels like three of Dave’s own, and if he wasn’t so pliant and relaxed from cumming twice this would probably burn a lot more. But thankfully his body is able to handle the stretch, and Dave groans softly as Karkat’s fingers scissor inside him, working him even more open. He wants to move his hips, to fuck himself on Karkat’s thick fingers but he wasn’t kidding about his legs being weak.

“I’d l-love to—mmngg—ride you, sweetheart, but I—nnnhah!—I don’t think I can m-move,” Dave brings his knuckle up to his mouth and bites down as Karkat adds a third finger. He’s so overstimulated by this point he can barely keep a thought in his head, and all he can do is bite down on his finger and ride it out.

-

“Later then,” Karkat says, shivering at the way Dave calls him _sweetheart_. “Think you’d look good on top of me.”

He gently pries Dave’s finger out of his mouth, entwining their hands so he can’t put it back.

“Trying to keep that pretty voice from me?” he asks. Dave is falling apart in front of him wonderfully, and Karkat wants every part of it.

He shifts his weight forward, pinning Dave’s hand to the mattress as he removes his fingers. He fumbles with the condom wrapper, ripping it open with his teeth. It’s a trial, putting it on with one hand, but he manages it. He grips his dick at the base and guides it to Dave’s entrance, gasping at the feel of it sliding into Dave.

He’s too worked up to take this slow, the way he wants to, but he also doesn’t want to hurt Dave. He watches Dave’s face intently as he pushes in, bottoms out, and waits, muscles trembling with the effort of not moving as Dave adjusts.

-

Karkat takes Dave’s finger out of his mouth and then pins his arm down to the mattress and keeps it there, all while he rips open the condom package with his teeth ( _sohot_ ) and starts pushing himself into Dave.

Karkat pushes inside and Dave groans as Karkat slides inside of him, stretching him open even wider than his three fingers had. The stretch and the burn is practically overwhelming. Karkat bottoms out inside of him, and doesn’t move, letting Dave take his time to get used to the stretch. Dave takes a deep breath in, then out. He lifts up his legs, bending them at the knee, and then looks up at Karkat and gives a little nod.

“Go ahead, baby,” Dave whispers, “I’m all yours. _Use_ me.”

-

Dave’s voice saying _use me_ is going to be with Karkat until his dying day, holy goddamn fuck. Karkat has to bite his lip hard to keep himself from cumming right there, holding still for a long few moments more to get himself under control.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out. “Can’t just say shit like that.”

He inches back, sliding his dick out until just the head remains inside, then takes a breath and slams back in with a grunt. He’s not going to last long at all, not with Dave’s tight, wet heat surrounding him. He starts thrusting in earnest, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation, but he forces them back open at Dave’s whimpers, taking in his flushed face and wet eyes.

Karkat surges down to mash their mouths together. It’s uncoordinated and sloppy and desperate, too much tongue and teeth but Karkat doesn’t care in the slightest, breathing Dave in as he jackhammers his hips.

“So--hhhah--tight s-sweetheart,” he gasps. “L-like you were-uughh--made ju-uust for me.”

Fuck, he can feel his orgasm building already, too quick, but he can’t hold it back. He dips his head down to bite Dave’s shoulder as pleasure rips through him, shaking him to pieces as he cums. He keeps thrusting through it, until it becomes too much and he all but collapses, barely able to remember to push himself to the side so he doesn’t crush Dave completely.

He lays there, panting, and feels a bit of saliva pool on Dave’s chest beneath his mouth. He doesn’t have the energy to wipe it up.

-

Karkat pulls out nearly all the way, and Dave whines at the sudden emptiness inside him after he just got used to the stretch. But then it cuts off into a sharp cry as Karkat slams his cock back inside until their hips slap together. Then Karkat starts up a hard and relentless thrust and Dave’s vision is completely white. He feels his cock getting hard again from the overwhelming, incredible pleasure—there’s no way, no _way_ he can cum again. He isn’t even sure how he managed to get hard for a third time, his recovery time is pretty good but holy shit.

Dave can’t even speak, he wants to tell Karkat how good it feels, but his voice breaks off every time he opens his mouth. He can’t splice a single word together, his brain hazy and broken from bliss. All he can manage are little throaty whines and whimpers as Karkat fucks him hard and fast, his body jerking with each thrust.

For a moment he thinks he’s sweating as he feels wetness slip down his face but then he realizes it’s only coming from his eyes. What the hell is he crying for, why now?

Karkat comes down and crushes their lips together and Dave lets his eyes flutter closed, feeling another tear slip out and down into his hairline. Karkat kisses him as hard as he fucks him, biting at Dave’s lips, grunting and panting into Dave’s open mouth.

Dave jumps and cries out as Karkat bites down on his shoulder, knocking his head back as he feels Karkat’s cock pulse thickly as he cums deep inside him. Karkat’s still squeezing his hand in a vice-grip, and Dave squeezes back. Dave bucks his hips up weakly, riding out Karkat’s orgasm, trying to milk every last drop from him. Dave’s legs shudder violently and Dave lets out a loud moan and arches his back as his cock pulses. He shifts his head, blinking open one eye but there’s nothing. His cock is flushed red, leaking a tiny bead of precum, but already beginning to soften.

Christ. He came again, even though nothing came out that time. Holy fuck.

Karkat pulls out and collapses against Dave, the both of them gasping for air.

Dave can’t even move. He’s so fucking fucked out, his entire body feels limp and fuzzy, his brain in a blissful fog. He rolls his head to the side to look at Karkat but he can’t get his eyes open.

Their hands are still clasped, so Dave gives it a weak little squeeze, the most he can manage right now.

-

Dave squeezes his hand. It’s barely there, but it’s enough for Karkat to realize he has some shit to take care of. He still doesn’t move, not for awhile, until he can trust his arms not to give out on him when he pushes himself up, wiping drool from his mouth.

Dave has his eyes shut. His face is slowly returning to its normal color, but he’s still flushed and tear stained. His sweaty hair is slowly drying into a wild mess and the hickeys are darkening. He has a bright red mark on his shoulder in the shape of Karkat’s teeth. He looks beautiful.

Did Dave cum a _third_ time? Fuck, that’s so hot. No wonder he looks like he can barely move.

Karkat presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back, babe,” he says softly. He regretfully lets go of Dave’s hand. He reaches down to remove the condom and tie it off, grimacing at it. There’s nowhere he can put it in here, so he leaves the fort once more with a sigh.

He returns with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Dave appears to have fallen asleep, but he stirs when Karkat drags the wet cloth over his stomach and chest, cleaning off the remaining cum. 

When Dave is as clean as he’s going to get, Karkat tosses the cloth out of the fort and curls up next to Dave, nuzzling into his chest. He’s sleepy, surprisingly. He got eight entire hours and he feels like he could sleep even more now, so long as Dave is in his arms.

It takes awhile, listening to Dave’s calming breaths, but eventually he falls into a light doze.

-

Karkat kisses Dave’s sweaty forehead and says he’ll be back, and Dave doesn’t even have the strength in him to whine out _don’t go_ like he wants to, so he just furrows his brows a little and thinks it in his head. He’s Karkat’s soulmate, maybe it means Karkat has telepathic powers that only work with Dave. Apparently not, because Karkat pulls away, let’s go of Dave’s hand and leaves the fort.

Dave’s fingers curl and uncurl a few times, but even that is too much movement, and eventually he just lies there. He must doze off in the short amount of time Karkat is gone, but is pulled back into a hazy consciousness as Karkat wipes him down with a warm, wet cloth.

Hmm, that’s nice. Karkat’s so nice. Always looking out for him. Dave wants to thank him, to tell Karkat how nice he is, tell him how much he loves him...but he’s so sleepy. His lips are heavy and numb, he can’t move...

Karkat presses up against him, his weight warm and comforting as Karkat nuzzles into Dave’s chest. Dave makes a little hum in response, and then he’s quickly out again, the fog pulling him back under.

-

When Karkat wakes up, he doesn’t know how much time has passed, but it’s definitely not morning anymore. He yawns into Dave’s chest and sits up, a pleasant soreness in his muscles. He glances over and sees that Dave is still sleeping. Pretty deeply, it seems like, because he doesn’t so much as twitch when Karkat pulls away.

Karkat glances around the blanket fort with a heavy heart. He should probably get this stuff cleaned up while Dave is asleep.

He closes the blinds first, though, so the light doesn’t wake his… boyfriend? Is Dave his boyfriend? They all but professed their love to each other, but got caught up before talking about labels. Beyond _soulmate_.

He’s not thinking about that, though. He pushes the thought out of his head, feeling anxiety starting to coil inside him, and gets to work dismantling the fort. It takes a bit of time and by the end he’s well and truly starving. Dave will probably be hungry when he wakes up, too, so Karkat goes into the kitchen to whip up some spaghetti with meatballs, since they have ground beef in the fridge.

-

Consciousness comes to Dave like trying to walk through a thick bog of black ichor neck-deep.

Dave blinks his eyes open, and instantly groans and squeezes them shut again. Fuuuuck, his head was pounding. He brings up his hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes, and realizes he’s under a blanket.

Dave chances opening his eyes again, a little slower this time, and takes in his surroundings. He’s still out in the living room, on his mattress, but the blanket fort has been pulled down, one of the blankets now covering Dave. He’s still very naked under the blanket, except for his shirt, still opened and hanging off one shoulder, which is throbbing.

In fact, his entire neck is throbbing, not just his shoulder. His lower back and ass are pretty sore, too, but it’s a familiar ache. Dull and mostly internal. It’s all trumped by the pounding of his head, which makes the room spin whenever he tries to look around.

Dave takes a few minutes to just lay under the blankets with his eyes closed. But he’s restless. Karkat isn’t here, it was a lack of presence Dave had been very much aware of since the moment he woke up. He pouts at nothing, wishing he could roll over and bury himself in Karkat’s warmth and ask for a head rub. Where did he go?

Dave’s nose finally becomes aware of a delicious smell, but before he can truly enjoy it his head throbs again, spoiling the scent before he can take it in. With a defeated groan, Dave pulls away the sheets and looks around blearily for his boxers. He spots them, neatly folded with his shorts, at the corner of the bed. Dave grabs them and stays on his back as he shimmies into them, his eyes screwed shut. Fuuuuck, moving bad.

But he wanted to find Karkat. Dave pushes himself up with a grunt and shakily steps off the mattress and turns to head for the kitchen, following the smell.

There’s Karkat, his back to him while he stands at the stove. Dave stumbles across the kitchen and slumps his aching head onto Karkat’s shoulder.

-

Karkat hears Dave coming up behind him, which is a bit odd since Dave typically doesn’t make a lot of noise when he walks. It works in Karkat’s favor this time, however, because he doesn’t startle as he spoons some pasta sauce over a bowl of noodles. Dave isn’t talking, which is also weird. Sleep doesn’t seem to affect how much he babbles, unlike Karkat. 

He turns around, hand coming to rest on Dave’s waist, and drops a kiss to his head.

“Hey baby,” he practically _coos_. Ugh, sex makes him so embarrassing. “I made lunch. You hungry?”

-

Karkat twists around and wraps an arm around Dave and kisses his head, and Dave gives a weak little sigh in response, even though he wants to do so much more.

Dave nuzzles his head deeper into Karkat’s shoulder. He isn’t sure if he’s hungry, it smells really good but he can’t focus on anything but the pounding in his head. This is the worst his head has felt since the accident, by far. He’s worried if he risks any food it might come right back up on him, and he’d hate to waste one of Karkat’s delicious meals that way.

Dave rolls his head from side to side, trying to stone two birds. The pressure of rubbing his head on Karkat's warm, solid shoulder feels good, and it also lets him shake his head in response to Karkat’s question.

“Mmgg...” Dave moans, feeling miserably guilty.

His gorgeous, perfect boyfr—soulmate? Friendmate? Soul...boy? Karkat wasn’t his soulmate, not yet...maybe not at all, if Dave was really cursed not to have one. But he was Karkat’s soulmate, so that made Karkat his...what? Karkat was still calling him baby, and they weren’t doing anything right now? So what did that mean?

Guuhhhh, his head was throbbing too much for all this thinking. In fact, thinking was only making it worse.

Anyway, Karkat just made him food and is treating him so sweetly and kissing his head and Dave wishes he could just kiss Karkat back and hug him and tell him how good the food is and say something like _but you look even better_ and then kiss him until the food got cold but he can’t because his stupid head hurts.

He feels like a weak little kid, whining for help like this, but he can’t help it. Karkat won’t judge him for it, this is what Karkat is here for after all. He isn’t going to call Dave a weakling for this. Karkat is safe. Karkat can help.

“Head hurts...” Dave mumbles.

-

When Dave shakes his head Karkat’s confusion ratchets up to worry; Dave hasn’t turned down food yet, so far. And when he says his head hurts Karkat’s guilt weighs down on his shoulders.

Of fucking course his head hurts! The doctors and nurses _repeatedly_ told him that Dave wasn’t supposed to have any strenuous activity, and here Karkat is, fucking him rough _four days_ after he got a concussion.

He pulls Dave closer, immediately running a hand through his hair as an apology.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he mumbles. Then, louder, “Did you drink the water I left for you? Let’s get you sitting down. I’ll get you some Tylenol.”

He walks Dave backwards into the living room, since Dave doesn’t seem keen on letting him go. His hand never leaves Dave’s head, pressing into all the pain-relieving spots he knows. The backs of Dave’s knees hit the couch and Karkat pushes him onto it gently. He grabs the water and passes it over.

“Drink, Dave,” he says. “You’re probably dehydrated.”

He snatches the Tylenol off of the table, still moved aside to make room for Dave’s mattress. He grabs two of the pills and hands those to Dave, too, coming down to sit by him and bury his hand into his hair again, rubbing soothing circles as Dave swallows down the medication.

-

Karkat sounds so mad at himself, and Dave feels awful about it. He wants to protest, tell Karkat that wasn’t a fucking idiot, that it wasn’t his fault.

Karkat left him water? Of course he did, but Dave didn’t even notice. Dave sighs as Karkat gently runs his hands through his hair and leads them back out to the living room, letting Dave keep his head on his shoulder until he’s backing him down onto the couch.

Karkat pushes the water into his hand and instructs Dave to drink. Dave makes a face, but does as he’s told, taking a couple of gulps.

Bleh.

Karkat sits down and presses two pills into Dave’s hand and Dave pops them into his mouth and takes another curt sip of water to knock them down. Karkat’s hands are quickly back in his hair and rubbing into pressure points Dave didn’t even know were there.

It’s helping a great deal, but Dave’s vision is still swimming and his head throbs. He gulps down the last of the water even though he hates the feeling of it sliding down his throat, and passes the cup to Karkat with his eyes closed. He doesn’t know where anything is right now and doesn’t want to cause even more work for Karkat by breaking the glass.

Dave groans and leans over to drop his head onto Karkat’s shoulder. “...M’sorry,” he mumbles, “My fault...big slutty slut...didn’ know my limit...uugghh...”

-

Karkat takes the glass and sets it aside, frowning.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he says. “I’m the king of negative self talk here and I don’t appreciate the challenge to my throne.”

He leans over to kiss the crown of Dave’s head.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” he sighs. “I shouldn’t have been thinking with my dick. I’m supposed to make sure you _don’t_ overexert yourself, not help you do it.”

He’s already fucking up this relationship and it’s barely started. Is this a relationship? He hopes it is. If Dave really wants him, and won’t get tired of him.

“Do you wanna put your head in my lap? I can give you another scalp massage; it helped last time, right?”

-

Dave nods his head a little and lays his head in Karkat’s lap, twisting to turn his face towards Karkat’s stomach.

“You tried to tell me to rest an’ I didn’ listen,” Dave grumbles, pouting. “Don’ wan’ you t’feel bad...I told you to keep going.”

It felt so good at the time, so why does it feel like he’s being fucking punished for it now? Was this because they had an incomplete bond? Because of Dave’s family curse? Was he never going to truly get to be with Karkat, without some kind of fatalistic karma getting in the way of it?

Ugh. He couldn’t think about that right now. Dave lets out a pathetic little sigh and tries to relax and enjoy the feeling of Karkat’s fingers in his hair.

Dave scoots himself a bit closer to Karkat, burying his nose into Karkat’s shirt and breathing his scent in deep.

“What’d you make for lunch?” Dave mumbles, “Smelled good. I promise to eat it when this fuckin’ headache clears up.”

-

Dave is acting like existing hurts and Karkat feels terrible. _And_ he’s trying to relieve Karkat of his guilt, which only makes him feel worse. It would be easier if Dave yelled at him.

He uses both hands, one dragging his nails lightly against Dave’s scalp and the other focusing on pressure points, rubbing circles into them as he counts in his head and releases, moving onto another one.

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” he replies. “Pretty simple. You don’t have to push yourself to eat it, babe. I can put it away for later or just make something else when you feel up to eating.”

He didn’t get a chance to eat; Dave came into the kitchen right as he was finishing up and he’s still incredibly hungry, but he’d rather sit here and work on Dave’s headache until he passes out from low blood sugar than force him to move.

-

Karkat’s head massage feels fucking incredible, and it isn’t long until Dave’s head is feeling heaps better than it did when he first woke up. There’s still a dull ache, but he doesn’t feel nauseated anymore. He doesn’t think he’s ready to try food just yet, though. Maybe more water, in a little bit. For now, his body just wants to rest, so that’s what he’ll do.

After a few minutes Dave hears Karkat’s stomach grumbling loudly, and Dave opens his eyes and twists his head to look up at Karkat.

“Go get some food, Kat. I’m feelin’ better now.” He offers Karkat a little smile as though to prove his point.

“If you put it away, I can always heat up some later when I’m feelin’ up for it. Think I just gotta be horizontal for a bit.” Dave says, “Thanks for the head rub, babes. Always lookin’ out for me.”

-

Karkat’s stomach grumbles and he scowls. Fucking traitor. Dave predictably tells him to go eat, and Karkat would tell him to fuck off if he didn’t also say his head was feeling better.

He lifts Dave’s head and shoulders off of him and scoots out, then gently lays him back down. He leans over to press a soft _smeck_ of a kiss in the middle of his forehead and straightens up.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises. “I’ll eat quick and then keep playing with your hair.”

He practically inhales his bowl of spaghetti, barely tasting it, and makes quick work of putting it away. Unfortunately this leaves him with more dishes to do, and he doesn’t want them to pile up like before he washed them while Dave was sleeping. He grumbles angrily under his breath as he washes them. He has a ~~boyfriend~~ Dave waiting for him.

He dries his hands off when he’s done and returns to the living room, picking Dave up again so he can sit beneath him. His hands start up their (hopefully) calming motions again.

“Hey,” he smiles.

-

Karkat carefully picks up Dave’s head and gets off the couch, kissing him on the forehead before going into the kitchen for some food, promising to be back to play with Dave’s hair more. Dave hums and offers Karkat a lazy smile in response.

It’s an incredibly domestic feeling, lying on the couch and listening to the sounds of Karkat moving around the kitchen, fixing himself a plate of pasta. The clinking of dishes, the rush of running water from the sink, the fridge opening and closing, Karkat’s footsteps...it’s like Dave could be lying on a couch in a house he and Karkat live in together. Dave’s sleeping on the couch after getting back from work and Karkat’s puttering around in the kitchen. Maybe he’ll come out and give Dave shit for napping on the couch, tell him to go to bed if he’s tired...

And Dave would say, _but baby the bed is still out here on the floor!_ Dave scoffs a little, smiling to himself at his vivid and silly thoughts.

He can see it so clearly. A life with Karkat. It would be...absolutely perfect.

Dave hears Karkat come back into the room and then he’s sitting back down and putting Dave’s head back into his lap, instantly starting up his head massage again just like he promised he would.

Dave grins sleepily up at Karkat. “Hey, sugar.”

-

Karkat heart stutters. Dave’s tired smile combined with his drawl and the _sugar_ he calls Karkat are a fucking lethal combination. Karkat will never, ever recover. Dave must be able to see him blush because his smile gets wider.

“You’re a fucking hazard,” Karkat grumbles.

It’s so damn nice to sit here like this, with Dave’s sweet gaze staring up at him, belly full of warm food and feeling calm and relaxed. He hopes Dave is always this cuddly. 

“Should probably move your bed back soon,” he says, twining his fingers through Dave’s hair. “And shower. Think you’d like to shower with me?”

Does his voice sound as embarrassingly hopeful as he thinks it does? He’s only showered with a couple of people before and they were all highly awkward affairs--shower sex is not as easy as it seems at first glance--but he thinks it could be nice, with Dave.


	8. Chapter 8

Dave snickers a little when Karkat calls him a ‘hazard’, but quickly melts when Karkat starts to twist his fingers into Dave’s hair. Now who was using whose tricks?

Dave nuzzles back into Karkat’s belly and closes his eyes, finally able to truly enjoy having his hair being played with now that his headache is clearing up, thanks to Karkat’s earlier ministrations and the Tylenol kicking in.

“Yeah, I guess so. Or we just leave it out here and sleep in the living room,” Dave says, “Buuut it might be kinder for our backs to have the mattress back on the bedframe.”

It didn’t really matter either way to Dave, but Karkat probably didn’t deal with the sleeping conditions Dave had when he was younger, so he might appreciate the mattress being taken off the floor.

Dave presses a kiss to Karkat’s stomach through his sweater, then looks up at Karkat.

“A shower sounds real good, baby,” Dave says, “I’m sure there won’t be as many mishaps this time as long as you’re there to supervise. Well, so long as we behave. But I make no promises.”

-

Karkat’s heart flips over in his chest. He doesn’t know why, but it didn’t occur to him that Dave would want him to sleep in his bed after this, in his _room_. Will Dave let him sleep with him for the rest of his time here? Will he play with his hair and help Karkat sleep? Will his insomnia even allow for that?

A wave of self-consciousness crashes over him when Dave presses a kiss to his stomach. It’s through his sweater and Dave has seen him _naked_ , for fuck’s sake, but he’s still suddenly very aware of the layer of fat he carries around. Maybe he should add more core exercises to his workout routine.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall this time,” he says. “Since disaster follows you wherever you go we probably should have done this in the first place. I’m going to put you in a bubble for your own protection, just fucking watch me.”

He’s not worried about Dave ‘behaving’. He just came three times, Karkat doubts he’ll be able to get hard again for a good long while.

He pushes Dave lightly until he sits up, then helps him stand, entirely unnecessarily, but it lets him pull Dave close again and drop a kiss on one of the many dark splotches on his neck. He grins, laces their fingers together, and leads them to the bathroom.

-

They get to the washroom and once they’re inside Dave decides to thank Karkat for the head massage, since he’s feeling much better now.

Karkat closes the door behind them and as soon as he does so Dave steps over to him and pushes him on the shoulder, backing him up into the door. He presses his lips to Karkat’s, giving him a deep, long kiss before pulling away and pressing warm kisses down the side of Karkat’s neck—the side that he hasn’t put a single love bite on yet. Which just wouldn’t do.

Dave licks and bites and kisses from just below Karkat’s ear to the collar of his shirt. He really wishes his stupid cast wasn’t in the way so he could press his whole body up against Karkat’s as he did this.

Karkat must think Dave is a fuckin’ amateur at this shit, but if this fucking cast wasn’t messing with him, he’d having swooning from his moves left and right. Karkat was in for it when this cast came off. Especially if it turned out Karkat was his soulmate, after all.

For now, he hopes his limited move set is enough to keep Karkat satisfied.

-

Dave presses him against the door and kisses him long and sweet before moving down to his neck, making Karkat gasp. Heat blooms in his stomach and he lets his head fall back against the door, exposing more of it for Dave. 

He hasn’t had a chance to look in the mirror yet. Typically it’s something he avoids, but he wants to see what Dave’s affection looks like against his skin. Though he’s not opposed to Dave adding as many as he wants, this isn’t what they’re here for.

“Feels good, baby,” he murmurs, running a hand up and down Dave’s back. He pushes Dave’s open shirt off his torso and gently pushes him back. He reaches out and lightly runs a finger down Dave’s neck to the bite on his shoulder. “I really messed you up, huh?”

The bruises look dark and angry and he frowns. Maybe he’d been too rough. Or maybe Dave bruises really fucking easily.

He pushes Dave’s shorts down and says, “You fuck around with the shower. I can’t fucking get it a decent temperature.”

When Dave turns around his eyes travel down to his ass, ogling openly now that he’s allowed.

-

Karkat undresses Dave like it’s just no big deal, yep, happens all the time. That doesn’t stop the blush that spreads across Dave’s cheeks like a bleeding pink marker, however.

Karkat shucks off his boxers and wow, yep, he’s just. Naked. In front of Karkat. Who hasn’t taken off any of his clothes yet.

(Wow. If it wasn’t fucking impossible for Dave to get hard right now, his dick would definitely be perking right up at that. Something about that imbalance was mad sexy.)

Okay, okay, okay. Shower time. Dave turns around and fucks with the handle on the shower, twisting it on and periodically sticking his hand underneath the spray to check the temperature. It’s then he notices droplets from the shower head are hitting his cast, and Dave takes a step back.

Fuck. He’d forgotten he’d need to bag up his fucking arm. That was going to be so unsexy. As if the big red cast wasn’t already super unsexy as it is...

“Fuck, we gotta put a bag on this fuckin’ thing,” Dave grouses, pouting down at his arm.

-

Karkat pauses, hands falling from the hem of his sweatshirt. He fucking _forgot_ that they have to seal Dave’s cast so it doesn’t get wet.

“Fuck, I’m really nailing this whole taking care of you thing, aren’t I?” he asks sarcastically. “I’ll be right back.”

He goes to grab some grocery bags and the duct tape he’d bought, returning with both in hand and a determined look on his face. He’s going to stop screwing this up eventually. 

Getting the bags secured over Dave’s cast is just slightly more awkward while Dave is naked. It’s probably going to hurt, pulling the tape off his arm, too, but that’s a problem for future Dave and Karkat. Current Dave and Karkat get to take a nice warm shower together.

He strips quickly and efficiently, feeling Dave’s eyes watching him the whole time, and tries not to let his insecurity overwhelm him. It’s difficult, when Dave is standing there looking gorgeous and Karkat is incredibly aware of the unflattering bathroom lighting.

-

Karkat comes back with grocery bags and tape and it’s more than a little weird to stand there buck-ass naked while someone wrapped a bunch of duct tape and grocery bags around your arm. Not exactly the super sexy shower fun Dave would be liking to have right now.

Finally Karkat finishes with his arm and then goes to take off his own clothes. Dave unabashedly watches the show, because he can now, so he’s going to take advantage of that fact.

Fuuuck, Karkat was so fucking handsome, it was downright criminal. Gorgeous olive skin (marked up on his neck by Dave, thank you very much), strong arms, broad shoulders, a happy trail of hair all the way down to his cock, which looks just as delicious even when it isn’t hard.

Dave can’t help himself any longer, so when Karkat kicks his pants off his legs Dave makes a long, loud cat whistle.

“Well, hel-lo, nurse,” Dave says saucily, his eyes dragging up and down Karkat like he’s trying to commit it all to memory. “My, my, when they told me it was time for a sponge bath I didn’t think it would be like _this_ , but you ain’t about to catch me complaining.”

-

Karkat’s face explodes with heat as Dave looks him up and down with a filthy expression. Dave looks at him hungrily, like Karkat’s the best thing he’s ever seen, and it’s baffling. Despite his embarrassment, a smile threatens to sneak onto his face at Dave’s ridiculousness.

“Okay, dickbag,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “Get your ass in the shower.”

Dave looks tempted to say something else so Karkat strides past him, stepping under the spray first, and looking at him with raised eyebrows.

When Dave joins him the first thing Karkat does is step closer for a kiss under the warm water, backing Dave against the shower wall. Without breaking the kiss he reaches past Dave’s head and grabs the shampoo from the little alcove behind him.

He pulls back with a smile, reaching up to brush Dave’s wet hair out of his eyes. He pops the cap on the shampoo bottle and pours some into his palm, spreading it between both hands.

“C’mere baby,” he says, burying his hands in Dave’s hair and working it up into a lather, scrubbing along his scalp. He twirls a clump of hair between his fingers when he’s done and directs Dave under the spray again, holding a hand above his eyes to block any stray suds. When the shampoo is all rinsed out he turns around, but pauses, confused.

“Where’s your conditioner?” he asks.

-

Dave tilts his head. “Conditioner?” he says, “Uh, I don’t have any. Is that what you use?”

-

Karkat’s mouth drops open. Dave looks incredibly sincere, but Karkat feels like he’s being pranked. Dave doesn’t know about a lot of _food_ that Karkat considers pretty basic but… _conditioner_? 

“Are you fucking with me right now?” he asks hesitantly, trying not to immediately lose his mind. “Or do you genuinely not know what conditioner is?”

-

Dave blinks a little, surprised by Karkat’s reaction, and shakes his head. “Nope.” Dave says.

The first time he’d bought a full size bottle of shampoo was...three years ago? Before that, it was bars of soap in the bathroom sink from the ages of five to eleven. After that, he started swiping the travel-size bottles of shampoo because they were easy to conceal. Although one time he did grab a bottle that didn’t even lather in his hair, and it only made it limp once it dried. That was a big waste of time—it meant he had to go out again and get the right bottle. He certainly never made that mistake again, and always made sure to read the label to make sure it specifically said shampoo and nothing else.

“And I mean nope as in, no, I’m not fucking with you, and also I don’t have a fucking clue what conditioner is,” Dave says, “Is that like, for my skin? I’ve got a body wash.”

See now that was an easy one to understand. Body wash, obviously it washes your body. It was a real life-changer for thirteen-year-old Dave, that was for sure. But he used up the little travel bottles of it pretty quickly, so eventually it just wasn’t worth getting anymore (especially since he didn’t want to keep frequenting the store in order to swipe it). Bar soap was more effective. Lasted through more washes. Dave didn’t splurge on the stuff until he moved in with John.

Dave points to his bottle of body wash. “This stuff. Will that work?”

-

Either Dave is an extremely good actor or he really doesn’t know what conditioner is. Karkat feels like the rug just got pulled out from under him. This… says a lot about how Dave grew up. He knows plenty of guys who don’t use conditioner or--worse, somehow--use the 2 or 3-in-1 shit, but they know what it _is_ at least.

Karkat takes a deep breath in through his nose, reminding himself that yelling at an abuse victim is _not_ how you approach shit like this. He reaches out and lowers Dave’s arm.

“No, baby,” he says, surprisingly calm. “It’s not like body wash. It’s for your hair. You use it after shampoo. Shampoo cleans your hair but it also strips it of the things it needs to be healthy, which is what conditioner is for.”

He grabs his own bottle from the side of the tub, squirting a small amount onto his palm and showing it to Dave.

“You can use mine. Smells like vanilla,” he says, reaching up to work it through Dave’s hair, focusing on the ends. “I don’t know how the fuck you look so damn good. No lotion, no conditioner. You should look like a fucking garbage heap. Life is so unfair.”

He spends longer than necessary rubbing the conditioner into Dave’s hair. He probably needs the extra time. He wonders if he should get Dave a hair mask; Kanaya made him do one once. It was boring as shit but his hair was shiny afterwards, at least? Kanaya seemed pleased. 

-

Karkat explains the use of conditioner and then lets Dave use his own.

He flushes a little when Karkat says he looks good, despite not using lotion or conditioner. Were people supposed to use those things every day, or something? Dave chalks it up to yet another thing his brother never told him about and he was too stupid to ever figure out on his own, and leaves it at that.

Karkat gives Dave’s hair extra attention with the conditioner, making sure to rub it thoroughly into Dave’s hair. Dave’s hair had always been pretty thin, and fairly soft, but also pretty dry. Not much shine to it. Not like John and Jade, who had really pretty, shiny black hair. Like Karkat’s. Maybe it was a blonde thing?

Then again, Rose has blonde hair similar to his and her hair was shiny. But girls also used a lot of products in their hair, fancy creams and stuff.

Gah. This was too confusing. He’d done just fine using the stuff he had before. When you don’t have much to use, you find a way to make it work. Karkat thinks he looks good regardless of the fact he apparently hasn’t been taking care of himself properly, so that had to count for something, right?

Vanilla-scented, huh? It smelled familiar...

“Is this what makes your hair smell so good?” Dave asks.

-

Karkat’s hands still for a moment before picking back up.

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess,” he says, hoping Dave will think his flush is from the hot water. Now that he thinks about it, Dave does seem to kind of… smell him? A bunch. Instead of being weird it’s actually pretty fucking endearing. Maybe he should give Dave one of his sweaters. Or would that be too much? Karkat desperately doesn’t want Dave to feel smothered and dump his ass before they even begin dating.

He guides Dave back under the water and rinses the conditioner out thoroughly. When he’s through he pecks a few little kisses to Dave’s jaw and grabs his body wash. Dave points out his loofah and Karkat sudses it up, then starts dragging it across Dave’s body. His chest and shoulders and arm, then has Dave turn around so he can get his back.

When he gets to Dave’s ass he grins, grabbing a cheek and squeezing. He laughs at Dave’s reaction and crouches down to scrub at his legs, dropping a kiss to the bruises on his thighs. When he stands up he passes the loofah back to Dave, blushing.

“Do you wanna, uh,” he says eloquently, gesturing vaguely to Dave’s crotch.

-

Dave turns around and gives Karkat a lopsided grin. “So you can put my dick in your mouth but get all flustered about giving it a scrub down?”

Dave makes a tsk tsk sound, and hands the loofah back to Karkat.

“That isn’t very _professional_ of you, Karkat,” Dave says breathily, “You’re my nurse, giving your patient a sponge bath. You gotta be _thorough_.”

Dave steps forward and wraps his arm around Karkat’s neck, pulling him down so he can kiss up his neck and bite at his ear.

Dave gives his hips a little thrust, pushing his wet cock up against Karkat’s thigh.

“Come on, my hot little nurse,” Dave whispers, “I thought you said you don’t half-ass anything?”

-

“Stop calling me your fucking hot little nurse,” Karkat grits out, but he accepts the loofah back and gasps at the attention to his neck. Fuck, he never should have let Dave find out about that, except it feels amazing so Dave should do it all the time, forever. “You’re infuriating. I’ll give you fucking _thorough_.”

He drags the loofah up between Dave’s thighs and over his dick and balls, grinning at the little gasp Dave gives. He pays it more attention than perhaps any other portion of Dave’s body and when he’s done he steps close, wrapping his arms around Dave and spreading his ass with one hand while the other drags the loofah between his cheeks. 

He steps back, pushing the loofah back into Dave’s hand, and smiles.

“How’s that for _professional_ , jackass?”

-

Karkat washes Dave’s dick and balls more than he washed the rest of his body combined, and then he reaches around Dave, spreads his cheeks, and washes his ass.

Fuuuck. Dave wants to look down and glare at his dick.

_Why don’t you show up to your fucking son’s baseball game? Get your (cock)head in the game, we have a beautiful boy to fuck in the shower._

Nope, no response. So uncool.

But maybe that wouldn’t be the case for Karkat? Maybe Dave could get him all riled up instead. It would serve him right, acting all sexy and junk, rubbing Dave down. It’d be his own fault.

“That was pretty good, baby,” Dave says, stepping forward and wrapping his arm around Karkat’s neck again. “Very professional. But I’m afraid you’re so alluring in your scrubs and rubbed me down so good with that sponge, you got me all hot n’ bothered. So I’m about to make this nurse-patient relationship very un-professional.”

Dave bends his knees, kissing his way down Karkat’s chest until he’s squatting in front of Karkat’s cock. He nips at Karkat’s thighs, leaving bruising kisses and bites that mark up Karkat’s thighs the same way Dave’s already are. Dave wants to cover Karkat in as many marks he has.

Dave licks a stipe up Karkat’s cock, which is a little less than half-hard still, but Dave is nothing if not determined. He wraps his hand around the base of Karkat’s cock and gives it a little squeeze as he looks up at Karkat through wet lashes and dripping bangs.

“How’s about it, sweetness?” Dave purrs, “want me to clean you up?”

-

Karkat doesn’t know how he’s already getting hard again; he generally has a long fucking cooldown time and he already came _twice_ , not that long ago. But Dave is gorgeous and his cock is doing its damndest to fill out again, just as eager to make Dave happy as the rest of him.

The little bites he leaves on Karkat’s thick thighs are certainly helping. 

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I suggested we shower together,” Karkat says. He brushes Dave’s bangs out of his eyes. 

“I’m never gonna be able to say no to you, am I?” he muses, gasping a little breath as Dave moves his hand. “Fuck, baby, _please_.”

-

“Say no more, gorgeous.” Dave says softly.

He kisses down Karkat’s hip bone, then runs a long stripe with his tongue down the cum gutters—was there a less-raunchy name for those? The V maybe? Dave preferred cum gutters. He wonders briefly if Karkat would let him see just how much they could catch...

Dave leaves a few bites on Karkat’s hips, and then moves to his stomach. He runs his tongue down the centre and then leaves a kiss above his belly button. Then, he leaves several more bites just above the pubic bone.

When Karkat’s stomach, hips, and thighs all have a decent smattering of red marks, Karkat’s cock is finally back to being at full attention. Dave licks his lips, and presses a kiss to the tip of Karkat’s cock.

“Got the most beautiful fat cock, babe,” Dave says, looking up at Karkat as he pumps his shaft. He leaves his lips tantalizingly close to Karkat’s dick as he speaks. “Think I started getting pretty good at taking you down last time, thanks to your help. Let’s see if I can do it on my own this time.”

Without further ado, Dave takes Karkat’s cockhead into his mouth and sucks, swirling his tongue around it and licking a sharp stripe with the tip of his tongue up the slit.

Listen. Dave really enjoys giving head. He certainly never met anyone as fucking talented at giving it as Karkat, but Dave had never received any complaints himself. What he lacked in experience he made up for with enthusiasm, so he always put on...a bit of a show when he gave head. He needed the showmanship back in the day when he really had to back up the lack of experience, and it just sort of stuck throughout the years. Old habits die hard.

So he got a little slutty when he had a dick to put in his mouth, so what? As long as everyone was enjoying themselves, there was no harm in it, as far as Dave was concerned.

Dave moans, his lashes fluttering as he wraps his tongue around the head of Karkat’s cock like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Then he opens his mouth wide and takes Karkat slowly into his mouth, keeping his eyes on Karkat as he sinks lower and lower. He manages to get all the way down to the base without needing Karkat to push his head down. Dave’s eyes flicker closed and he moans happily at his success.

Then, he starts to bob back and forth.

-

It’s not fucking _fair_ that Dave can say these things, make Karkat’s heart pound, without even a blip of hesitation. Karkat is _shit_ at dirty talk, but Dave says sexy stuff like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Maybe for him it is.

He’s being a little tease, showering Karkat’s lower half with affection while avoiding his hardening dick. He kisses the fat on Karkat’s belly like it’s nothing, like Karkat hasn’t had people grab at it and squeeze harshly, faces drawing in disgust. Dave kisses and nips at every part of him like they’re worth his attention, and that makes Karkat’s legs shake with an emotion he can’t name.

When Dave finally takes Karkat’s cock in his mouth, Karkat’s hands scrabble uselessly against the shower wall. He moans loudly when Dave licks at his slit. 

Karkat’s been on the receiving end of blowjobs a number of times, but no one’s ever been as into it as Dave. He lets his eyes drift shut, like he’s savoring the taste of Karkat in his mouth, and moans, the vibration wrapping around Karkat’s dick and travelling all the way to his core.

“Jesus christ, Dave,” he gasps. Dave starts to bob his head and Karkat grips at his hair. Not guiding him or demanding more. Just grounding himself, and hopefully encouraging Dave in the process. 

-

Karkat gasps for air and nearly stumbles over, grasping at the shower wall behind Dave for purchase as Dave starts to fuck his cock into his mouth.

Then he grips at Dave’s hair and Dave moans, pushing Karkat deep as he can into his mouth so he can feel the vibration. Karkat doesn’t push him down or anything, which is odd. That’s normally what people did when they grabbed Dave’s hair during this. But Karkat just squeezes his hand, pulling at his hair a little. It feels good, and spurs Dave on to keep going.

He keeps bobbing back and forth, going down as deep as he can. Then he pulls back until only the head of Karkat’s cock is in his mouth and flicks his tongue across it, running the tip of his tongue up and down the slit. Dave moans when his tongue picks up a bead of precum.

Dave pulls back completely, taking Karkat’s cock in his hand and slowly pumping it while Dave makes a show of licking his wet, red lips and looking up at Karkat.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Dave asks, “You taste so good, I wanna drink you all down.”

He leans forward and presses kisses from the flushed head all the way down the side of Karkat’s cock, right along the vein. Then he trails more wet, sloppy kisses on his way back up, and then flicks the head with his tongue.

“Come on, baby, wanna taste you,” Dave says between licks, “Think you can do it, baby? Think you can cum for me a third time? Wanna make you feel as good as you’ve made me feel, sugar. So come on, Kitkat...”

Dave opens his mouth as wide as he can and takes Karkat right down to the base. It makes his eyes water, but in the shower it’s hard to tell what’s water and what’s tears.

Dave fucks his throat on Karkat’s dick over and over, moaning the whole time, lips stretched fully around Karkat’s thick cock, eyes closed in ecstasy.

His lashes flutter open as he takes Karkat down to the base again, looking up at Karkat to see the look on his face as Dave takes him deep down his throat.

-

Dave’s mouth is a fucking _gift_ , holy fuck. Karkat can barely think, can only feel, his entire being centered right between Dave’s lips as he bobs up and down, tongue curling around Karkat’s cock.

And then Dave is saying such pretty goddamn words, calling him _baby_ and _sugar_ and--fuck, _kissing_ his dick, all the way down and back up, and Karkat’s chest feels so tight, too small for the emotions building inside him. 

Dave wants him to cum again. Karkat isn’t even sure if he _can_ , but Dave wants him to. He’s trying his best to keep his hips pinned to the wall, but they keep making shallow thrusts forward, demanding more. 

Karkat whines, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as his eyes squeeze shut. It’s so much, too much, and he can feel his orgasm building so slowly, but he has nothing to _give_.

When he cums it takes him by surprise. It ripples through his entire body, makes his legs shake so damn bad he has to grab the shower rail to remain standing. Dave makes good on his word, greedily drinking down every last drop until Karkat is whimpering from overstimulation, but he doesn’t push Dave away.

This is what Dave felt before, when Karkat fucked him. It’s a sharp, painful sort of pleasure. He squirms, not sure if he wants more or if he wants it to stop, until finally he has to push Dave away so he can sink to the floor, panting.

-

When Karkat cums it isn’t nearly as big of a load as the first time but Dave drinks it all down happily regardless, until Karkat is sinking to the shower floor in front of him and panting for air. Dave grins, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Karkat’s lips. He wants to give Karkat a chance to breathe however, so he goes off to kiss everywhere else he can reach instead so he can leave his mouth alone to catch his breath.

Dave kisses Karkat’s cheeks, nose, forehead, down his jaw, his neck, before coming back up and claiming his mouth again.

He pulls away and bumps their forehead together. “Did so good, baby.” Dave says softly, running his hand through Karkat’s wet hair, pushing the wet curls from his eyes.

Dave kisses Karkat’s nose and then stands up to grab the soapy loofah. “Just hold on, baby. You can stay where you are and lemme wash you up.”

Dave squats back down and rubs down Karkat’s neck, shoulder, chest, arms and legs. He leans forward and kisses Karkat softly as he reaches around behind him to scrub down his back.

Once he’s finished he pulls away from Karkat’s mouth and kisses Karkat on the cheek. “Think you can stand up now, so I can wash your hair?”

-

Dave tells him he did good and he shudders at the praise, leaning into Dave’s palm, face tingling from the sweet kisses he left there. Karkat closes his eyes, lets Dave manipulate him as he scrubs him down. He feels boneless, like he couldn’t move if he tried. Dave will either have to drag his fat ass out of the shower or Karkat will live here now.

By the time Dave is done washing him down, however, Karkat’s recovered a bit of brain function. Enough to nod and grip the rail to pull himself up. His legs still feel kind of weak, and when Dave stands he wraps his arms around him, letting his forehead fall to the middle of his chest.

The words _I love you_ are on the tip of his tongue, but Karkat presses them into Dave’s skin with his lips instead of saying it out loud. He’s trying not to scare Dave off, after all. Karkat may belong to Dave, but Dave can leave him behind with ease. There’s nothing keeping him with Karkat, and logically he knows Dave said he wants to be his soulmate, but part of him is still terrified of Dave getting sick of him.

He did _good_ , Dave said he did good. But the fear is still there.

He can’t say any of this. He can’t really say anything, right now. Words exist in a haze just beyond his grasp. He hums instead, nuzzling into Dave’s chest.

-

Karkat manages to get to his feet but has to lean some of his weight against Dave, wrapping his arms around Dave’s shoulders and pressing his forehead to his.

Mmm. Fucked Out Karkat is a sight to behold, indeed. Dave runs his hand through Karkat’s hair and kisses the top of his head as Karkat leans down against Dave’s chest.

“I got you, big guy,” Dave says fondly, “let’s get these curly locks all washed up, yeah?”

Dave grabs Karkat’s shampoo bottle and squeezes a dollop into Karkat’s hair. He sets the bottle back down and then works the shampoo into a lather, trying to rub his fingers around in soothing circles like Karkat did for him. He washes out the shampoo, then repeats the process with the conditioner, working it into the ends like he saw Karkat doing and then continuing his head massage. Then he rinses out the conditioner and shuts off the water.

Dave cups the side of Karkat’s face and leans up to press a dripping wet kiss to Karkat’s lips. No tongue or teeth, just a soft, warm press. Then he pulls away, rubbing his thumb over Karkat’s cheek.

“How about we get out, dry off, and get some comfy clothes on? Sound good, baby?” Dave asks, “I dunno about you but I think a real lazy evening is in store for me. I just wanna lie under a blanket on the couch and snuggle up.”

Dave kisses Karkat’s nose. “You with me, baby? I’m not gonna let you sleep in the tub.”

-

Dave washes his hair and even conditions it, which makes a tiny smile twitch onto Karkat’s face. He decides right then that he’s leaving his conditioner here for Dave when he leaves. 

It takes a long moment for Karkat to process Dave’s words. His mind feels slow, like he’s wading through thick fog. He’s so damn _tired_ all of a sudden, too. He’s slept so much recently; it’s really fucking weird.

“‘M here,” Karkat grunts. He leans in to give Dave an uncoordinated chaste kiss that ends up at the corner of his mouth instead of directly on it. 

“Couch,” he agrees. “Snuggles.”

Dave leads him out of the shower and Karkat grabs a towel, movement slowly drawing him back to himself, waking him up a bit.

-

Fucked Out Sleepy Kat is so goddamn fucking cute, Dave wants to see how many orgasms Karkat can take in one sitting and then sit back and watch how cutely delirious he gets afterwards.

They step out of the towel and Karkat manages to dry himself and Dave off, which Dave is surprised by but he’s certainly not complaining about the extra hands helping to dry him off. Karkat ruffles the towel through Dave’s hair like he’s a little kid, and Dave is glad Karkat’s got the towel covering his head because his face is split into a huge sappy grin. Karkat pulls the tape and the bags off of Dave’s arm, which is a bit of an ordeal but once it’s done Karkat crumbles the entire mess of tape and plastic up and then dumps it in the trash.

Karkat stumbles off to John’s room for a fresh set of clothes and Dave heads to his room. Dave wants to be cozy as all fuck, so he gets into his softest pair of sweatpants. He wants to put on a hoodie, too, but there’s no way he’d be able to get into one on his own.

Naked from the waist-up, Dave goes over to John’s room, where Karkat is finishing pulling on his clothes, the door open (not much need for modesty between them anymore, Dave supposes).

“Can you help me get a hoodie on?” Dave asks.

-

Karkat should be used to seeing Dave’s skin on display by now but it always comes as a delightful shock. He smiles at Dave, standing in the doorway of the room Karkat (hopefully) won’t be sleeping in anymore.

He reaches over to grab one of his softer sweaters, bunching it up in his hands. It would look adorable on dave, oversized and _his_. He bites his lip.

“Wanna wear one of mine?” he asks. He manages not to hold the sweater out like an offering, but just barely.

-

Dave steps into the room and over to Karkat, looking at the sweater. It would be a bit baggier on him than his own sweaters, which not only sounds infinitely comfier but would also be pretty beneficial, considering the size of the cast. Probably a lot easier to put on.

But fuck all of that actual logic, he just really really really wants to wear one of Karkat’s sweaters and get to smell Karkat with every little movement he makes.

“Sure, baby.” Dave says, flashing Karkat a pleased little smile.

Karkat pulls the sweater on him, which is a bit of a learning curve. It’s different than putting on just a t-shirt, but still manageable. Dave pops his head out of the top, and pulls down the hem while Karkat fixes his damp bangs.

Fuuuuck yes, this is cozy. Karkat’s sweater is soft as hell, he’s basically swimming in it, and it smells just like him. Dave desperately wants to pull up the collar and breathe the scent deep, but he restrains himself. Karkat might find that weird as hell.

“Thanks, babe,” Dave says, “C’mon, let’s go get our fuckin’ snuggle on.”

They head out to the living room, pull the blanket off the mattress and sit down on the couch. Karkat spreads the blanket out across both of them and then Dave tucks himself underneath Karkat’s arm.

Then, sneakily, Dave pulls up the collar of the sweater and buries his nose into it, taking in a deep breath. He’s completely surrounded by Karkat, Karkat, _Karkat_ , and it’s absolute bliss.

-

Dave looks even better in his sweater than Karkat though he would. He’s drowning in it, the collar hanging off his shoulder and revealing tantalizing skin, splotchy with love bites. 

When Dave cuddles up to him on the couch, Karkat doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. He’s still hazy from his orgasm, nice and warm under the blanket, Dave’s weight pressing into him reassuringly, chasing his anxiety away. He glances down to see Dave sneakily sniffing at his sweater and his face breaks out into a smile. 

He slips a hand under it, tracing random shapes and letters into Dave’s skin.

“You like my sweater, baby?” he asks, amused.

It’s one of his favorites. It’s baggy, even on him, and incredibly soft. It’s a bit worn-down with age and overuse, but that only makes it softer. It’s warm and comfortable and Karkat likes to change into it on a bad day.

“You should keep it,” he says. “It looks better on you.”

-

Dave looks up quickly at Karkat, who is smiling at him. Karkat’s smile always turns Dave’s bones to paste, and knocks any argument Dave would have had out of his mouth. Karkat looks entirely serious and genuine about it, and if it means it’ll keep the smile on Karkat’s face, then who would Dave be to argue.

“O...okay,” Dave says quietly, “If you really want me to. T-thanks, babe.”

Dave is so stupid fucking happy that it’s like he can barely see straight. He feels so giddy it’s like he could walk on air if he tried. Dave’s arm and head don’t hurt at all right now, and while the logical part of his brain says that’s because of the Tylenol, the rest of him is too lovesick to give a shit and figures it must all be because of this incredible boy next to him on the couch.

Dave’s never had this with any of his past relationships, which were all pretty short-lived and frivolous. But it was very clear to Dave that Karkat was a big exception to every rule he (and his Bro) had ever given about this sort of thing.

He wanted to open up and let Karkat in. He wanted to get closer. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Karkat and in return, Dave would tell him everything about himself, too. Even the parts he was ashamed of.

He wanted to be with Karkat as much as he could be, even after this week ended and Karkat couldn’t stay the night every night anymore. Even after Dave healed and they both had to go back to their jobs and their regular lives. Dave wants Karkat to be a part of his life, a big part of it.

Dave can’t help but consider the future, which was something he never bothered doing before. For once it finally looks really, really bright. He wasn’t even this happy when he first left Bro’s apartment, because he was eighteen and terrified about how he was going to survive on his own.

But now he’s living in a comfortable apartment with his best friend. The heat works in winter, the air conditioning works in the summer. When Dave opens the fridge there’s food inside, not a bunch of shitty swords. When Dave looks in the sink there’s...a shit load of dishes he and John always leave to the last minute, because they both hate dishes. But it was better than a sink full of fireworks.

His mattress has a bed frame. He has full size shampoo, and body wash, and now he gets to see what all the fuss is about with conditioner. He’ll have to go out and buy a bottle at some point.

And best of all, there’s Karkat. And he’s Karkat’s soulmate. Dave looks down at the words written on his cast and smiles warmly as though they were on his own skin. He really, really hopes they are.

And if they aren’t, if Dave really is cursed to never have anyone’s words show up on him, then he doesn’t care. His words showed up on Karkat. And Karkat’s marked him and claimed him with other things. He’s got the proof of it all over his neck, and now wrapped around him in a wonderful-smelling sweater that Karkat is letting him keep, so he’ll always have the reminder that he _belongs to Karkat_. In every way that truly matters.

Dave turns his head and kisses Karkat’s shoulder, then rubs his cheek against him and nestles in. His eyes close and a peaceful smile comes to his face. He’s right where he wants to be, right where he was destined to be.

And he’ll be Karkat’s anything, for as long as Karkat wants to have him.

-

Karkat spends the next couple of hours drifting in and out of a doze, entirely content to remain here with Dave in his arms forever. When he’s awake he runs his hand up and down Dave’s back underneath his sweater and drops kisses to his hair, which is the only place he can reach since Dave is on his chest. 

It’s warm and cozy underneath the blanket, and Dave smells like a wonderful mix of himself and Karkat.

Karkat’s thoughts loom on the horizon, though, try as he might to ignore them. 

Every relationship he’s ever been in has ended badly. He’s only broken one of them off himself, after the girl socked him across the jaw with a closed fist. All the others dumped him, because he was too needy or loud or overbearing or any number of other things. Too much and not enough all at the same time. 

Dave seems to like him well enough right now, but will he still have the same outlook when Karkat embarrasses them in public? When he cries after a sad movie and wants to curl up for an hour in Dave’s arms? When the apparent charm of Karkat’s bitchiness in the morning wears off and he’s just an asshole? 

He gives Dave a tight squeeze. 

There’s still a chance that he might be Dave’s soulmate. They might be fated for each other. But if he’s _not_...

Dave hasn’t been treated kindly before, that much is obvious. But there are thousands, millions of people out there kinder than Karkat, and any one of them would be lucky to have Dave’s affection. When Dave realizes that Karkat isn’t special, that he’s bland and ordinary with slightly below-average looks, will he find someone better? If his cast comes off and Karkat’s words aren’t on his arm, will he be relieved, after weeks of having to put up with him?

Karkat will just… have to be as perfect as Dave is. Be worthy of his affection, and convince him to stick around, somehow. Yeah. Foolproof. 

-

Dave and Karkat spend a few hours dozing off on the couch, eventually shifting so that Karkat’s laying on his back and Dave’s laying on his chest. They trade a few lazy kisses here and there but it never goes beyond that, both of them just content to cuddle up under the blanket and just...be. Dave’s never had this before. It’s nice.

Eventually, however, his body reminds him that he hasn’t had anything to eat all day. Hunger pangs are something that Dave is so used to, he doesn’t really notice them until they start to get really loud and obnoxious. His stomach gives an impatient, long rumble that rouses Dave from his semi-conscious doze.

Dave pushes himself up off the couch. There’s no way not to move Karkat around while doing this, but thankfully Karkat wasn’t completely asleep, and he just grumbles sleepily as Dave murmurs under his breath that he’s getting food.

Dave heads into the kitchen and pulls out a tupperware container full of pasta, and meatballs. There’s another container full of sauce. Dave makes himself up a bowl, covers it with another bowl (he learned you had to cover shit like this from John, who flipped a lid when Dave nuked some leftovers in the microwave and they spattered all over the place) and sets the timer.

He leans back on the counter while he waits for his food to heat up. Would Karkat want some coffee? He tries to remember back to this morning—

Oh, wow. A lot had happened since that morning. Karkat kissing him in the blanket fort feels like a million years ago and two seconds ago at the same time. Same for the kiss in the kitchen and all the ones that followed, until Karkat was carrying him back into the blanket fort. Where they had sex.

He had sex with Karkat. Karkat made him cum three times in the span of a few hours. And Dave made Karkat do the same! Holy shit.

It’s finally starting to really catch up to Dave what went down, and it’s hard to believe that it all happened that day.

And Karkat still had another three days here, at least. Dave would have another week of dealing with his cast on his own until John was back from Washington. And he’s sure John will just shake his head and call Dave a klutz and say something like _I can’t leave you alone for a minute!_

John was a sweet guy, and would certainly try to be a good friend and help Dave navigate Cast Life. But there’s no way he’d be as good at it as Karkat.

There were definitely perks to getting to fuck your nurse, that was for sure. Dave is pretty sure John is not a homosexual. Dave would know—he always wound up getting crushes on straight boys, after all (not that John will ever find out about that).

The microwave beeps and Dave grabs a cloth to carefully take the bowls out and then stirs up his noodles. He wishes he hadn’t had such a headache when this was fresh, but it still looks just as good now.

It still looks piping hot, however, so Dave leaves the bowl on the counter to cool off a bit and goes over to make up a fresh pot of coffee. Karkat’s mug is still on the counter where he’d left it that morning, one sip taken from it. Dave distracted him from finishing it by kissing him.

Dave dumps the mug out as well as the now-cold coffee in the rest of the pot. He carefully rinses the grounds out from the basket, then fills the pot with water and takes everything back to the stove to make up a fresh batch.

Dave stands in front of the percolator, zoning out a little bit, thinking about how earlier this morning he’d been dreading Karkat walking back into the room and the awkward tension in the air. It was crazy how much things changed in a couple of hours, and now he’s back to looking forward to taking a mug of hot coffee back to the couch to give to his—

His—

Huh. Dave still hasn’t quite figured out that part, yet.

-

Dave leaves Karkat bereft on the couch, waking him up from his doze to get food. Karkat grumbles about how he could heat it up _for_ Dave, but Dave’s already gone, and Karkat lets his eyes drift shut for a few minutes more, listening to Dave mess around in the kitchen.

He’s taking a long time, though, and Karkat frowns. He gets up, and it’s only as he’s walking into the kitchen, catching Dave staring blankly at the percolator, that he realizes maybe trailing after Dave like a lost dog begging for affection might not be the right move here. Maybe Dave wants some fucking breathing room.

It’s too late to turn back, though, and Karkat steps up behind Dave to wrap his arms around him and kiss him on the back of his neck. Dave seems to like cuddles, at least.

“Making coffee, baby?” Karkat asks, rubbing his nose into Dave’s neck. “Thought you were gonna eat.”

-

Dave is broken out of his whirling thoughts as Karkat comes up behind him and slips his arms around Dave’s waist and kisses the back of his neck.

He got so lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear Karkat approach, and yet he didn’t do a fucking swan dive off the handle and flip his shit at being approached from behind.

He left his back completely open.

And it doesn’t bother him.

Dave shakes himself out of his thoughts and turns to look over his shoulder at Karkat, who’s nuzzling into the back of his neck.

“I thought you might want some,” Dave replies, “And I needed something to do while I waited for my food to cool off.”

Dave turns around in Karkat’s arms and presses a kiss to Karkat’s cheek. He wraps his arm around Karkat’s neck, pressing their bodies closer together. They’re kind of swaying on the spot, just wrapped up in each other’s arms, and Dave knows he has a big sappy smile on his face but he couldn’t care less.

His stomach intrudes upon the soft little moment with another loud and affronted growl, and Dave sighs and pulls away reluctantly from Karkat’s hold. His food is probably safe to eat now without scorching the roof of his mouth and tongue.

Dave turns back around to the percolator, which has coffee jumping up into the glass bubble, so Dave grabs a mug and pours Karkat a cup. He turns around and presses it into Karkat’s hands, paired with a quick kiss on the lips.

Dave pulls away, flashing Karkat a little grin before he brushes past him to go get his bowl of spaghetti.

“Guess you don’t gotta worry about dinner, there’s still lots of pasta leftover, after all.” Dave says, sticking a fork into the pasta and twisting it around. “What do you wanna do tonight?”

-

Karkat’s heart clenches as Dave hands him a mug of coffee that he made specifically for him. Dave has such a nice smile, it sets butterflies alight in his stomach. This feels so fucking domestic and Karkat wants to spend every day of the rest of his life like this, with Dave smiling at him. 

God, it’s only been four days.

Would Dave be weirded out, if he knew what Karkat was thinking? Would he think Karkat’s too clingy? 

He takes a sip of his coffee.

“How are you feeling?” he asks in return to Dave’s question. “If you still have a headache we should take it easy. But if you’re feeling up to it maybe we could… go somewhere?”

Fuck, that was the least smooth way to ask Dave out on a date. But it’s tuesday, which means his paycheck should be in his account. He has no fucking idea why they get paid on tuesdays instead of fridays like the rest of the world, but he’s in no fucking position to complain. Not that it’s ever stopped him before.

-

Dave perks up when Karkat mentions going out. He looks over at Karkat as he slurps up a bite of spaghetti, chewing on it while he watches Karkat’s expression. Karkat looks...a little sheepish, all of a sudden. He’s looking down into his coffee mug with his brows pulled into a worried line, his lips pressed together.

Was...

Was Karkat asking him out? On like a date?

Like an Actual Date, and not the Date that was Totally Not A Date that they had the other day when the sexual tension between them had not yet been resolved.

Was it an Actual Date just because they had sex? Did Karkat want to date Dave even if they didn’t know if Dave had Karkat’s words?

Dave pushes the thoughts away. He wasn’t gonna think about all this shit. He only had a few days left with Karkat staying here, he should just enjoy it and stop thinking so much. It was bad for the concussion, anyway.

Dave swallows his bite, sets his fork down in his bowl, and smiles warmly at Karkat.

“I feel fine, headaches all gone,” Dave says, “Might be a good idea to bring along some Tylenol in case it wears off while we’re out, but...what, uh—what did you have in mind?”

Dave is suddenly very curious to know what Karkat, Romance Aficionado Extraordinaire, would do on a date. If that’s what this is. Maybe Karkat’s just getting stir-crazy and wants to get out of the apartment for a few hours. That’s chill, too.

-

Oh, fuck.

Karkat didn’t think this far ahead. His brain is completely blank in the face of Dave’s acceptance. What do people do on dates? Karkat’s had a list of dates he wants to go on written in a journal since he was 13 years old but suddenly he can’t remember a single fucking one.

And he has to keep Dave’s concussion in mind, which means it has to be a casual, relaxing thing. No loud noises or flashing lights, which means that going to the little local fair that’s happening is entirely out. The zoo is probably closed by now, and it might be too packed anyway. Dinner and a movie is too cliche. He wants this to be _nice_. 

“What’s your favorite restaurant?” Karkat asks, getting an idea.

-

Dave ponders the question for a moment. He didn’t really go out to eat very much, at least not to restaurants. He’d get fast food now and then but John kept the kitchen pretty well stocked so Dave never had much of a need to eat out. There was that one time back in Houston, though...

“Um, I guess I like Olive Garden?” Dave says.

Shit. Was that place too fancy? It was always nicely decorated there, and they gave you cloths instead of napkins. Dave never got anything other than the breadsticks, so he didn’t know how pricey the menu was.

Obviously if Karkat is asking about what restaurants Dave likes it means he wants to go out for dinner. That’s a good way to stone two birds, they get out of the apartment for a bit and Karkat gets a break from cooking. Dave can easily pay for his own food. Or maybe he’ll just eat some breadsticks and salad so it’ll be free and Karkat doesn’t have to worry...

“I don’t really have a favourite,” Dave continues. Maybe he can back-pedal a bit here and save this. He doesn’t want Karkat to think he picked a fancy restaurant on purpose because he wants Karkat to buy him expensive food! “Anywhere is fine.”

-

Olive Garden? Really?

But fine, okay. Karkat doesn’t exactly have refined taste either. Olive Garden it is.

He grabs his phone, dismissing the messages from his friends without glancing at them. Probably just more obnoxious questions about if he and Dave are dating. He pulls up the Olive Garden website and passes the phone to Dave.

“Here, order what you want,” he says. “We can pick it up. I’m gonna go get ready. And I swear to god if you try to pay I will call and switch the payment.”

Dave looks bewildered, but Karkat leaves before he can say anything. He goes into the bedroom and puts on his nicest sweater, since he didn’t pack any of Kanaya’s stylish clothes, and a pair of jeans. In the bathroom he glances at himself for the first time, mouth splitting into a wide grin at the sight of the hickeys on his neck. He fucks around with his hair for a bit before giving it up, like always. He grabs one of the blankets on his way back to Dave, hoping he won’t mind if it gets a bit dirty.

They’re going to have a fucking picnic.

-

Pick it up? So they weren’t going to sit in the restaurant to eat it? Were they going to drive and bring it back here? Dave thought Karkat wanted to get out of the apartment.

“Um, yeah, sure...” Dave mumbles, but Karkat’s already walking out of the kitchen to go and get ready.

Wait. Why would Karkat switch out of his comfier clothes if they’re just picking up the food? Should Dave change, too?

Dave orders a mushroom ravioli and breadsticks, then leaves the phone on the counter with the order still open because he has no idea what Karkat wants. Karkat comes back out to the living room in some jeans and a fresh sweater, looking like an absolute snack as usual. He looks nice, but then again Karkat always looks nice. He doesn’t look too dressed up, anyway. So at least Dave can use that as a frame of reference for what he should wear.

As much as he wants to stay in Karkat’s sweater, he’s totally swimming in it, and he’s also wearing sweatpants. He hasn’t worn jeans since the day of the accident, but maybe he could wrangle himself into a pair. He’s probably gonna need Karkat’s help with this, now that he thinks about it.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just put my stuff so far,” Dave says, handing Karkat’s phone back to him. Then he decides it’s been way too long since he put the woo on Karkat so he should remedy that. Especially if Karkat’s about to buy him dinner.

“You look nice,” Dave says, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to Karkat’s jaw. “Can you help me get into something nice, too?”

Then, a pause. “...And maybe my sling, too. This cast is heavy as shit.”

-

Karkat smiles when Dave tells him he looks nice. He thinks he looks just as shitty as usual, but it’s sweet of Dave to say.

“I’d have packed some of the shit Kanaya gave me if I knew I was gonna be taking you out,” he admits. “But this works, I guess. And yeah, of course, babe. Just let me put this order in. Go grab what you wanna wear.”

He orders some lasagna and salad, has to dig out his wallet so he can put in his card number, but soon enough he’s striding towards Dave’s room, tucking his phone back in his pocket.

-

Karkat said that the clothes Kanaya got for him were really stylish and fancy. And Karkat just said _taking you out_. So this _was_ a date, then?

Dave doesn’t have much room to think about it, because Karkat’s telling him to go pick out what he wants to wear. Dave just nods dumbly and heads off to his room, feeling his heart pounding in his ears.

Okay. Okay. Okay. Dave gets into his room and opens his closet. He’s got exactly one Nice Shirt, that he bought for job interviews. It was dark maroon button up, with long sleeves. Dave frowns. He isn’t sure his cast would fit through the sleeves.

Otherwise, he’s got the short sleeve button-ups he got at the thrift store. Most of them had patterns on them, but there was one black one with red pinstripes that seemed...passable. As a date night shirt.

(Holy shit, was this really a date? Karkat was taking him out for a date??)

Dave puts the shirt on the bed and then roots through his drawer for some dark wash jeans, and tosses them on the bed, too. There. Yeah. That should be good, right? He supposed Karkat could be the judge of that.

Karkat comes into the room a few moments later, and Dave gestures to his bed. “I’ve kind of got limited options at the moment.” he says, waggling his cast as if either of them needed the reminder at its hindrance.

-

Karkat presses a kiss to the corner of Dave’s mouth.

“It’s fine, babe,” he says. “You look good in those eye-searing shirts, you’ll look great in this.”

Getting the shirt on is no problem. Karkat hardly even blushes, at this point. The pants, however, are a different matter. Dave kicks off his shorts and Karkat directs him to sit on the bed so he can put his legs through, then has him stand so he can shimmy the jeans up his hips.

He buttons and zips them up, face hot, and grabs the sling. After helping Dave into it he takes a step back and smiles through his embarrassment. Dave looks _cute_ , and the shirt does absolutely nothing to hide the bruises all over his neck. 

“I was right,” he boasts, stepping into Dave’s space and pressing their lips together.

-

Karkat helps Dave into his clothes, which turns out to be quite the experience. The shirt is nothing new, but Karkat hasn’t had to help him put on pants before.

Dave feels more than a little childish and silly, having Karkat helping him into his jeans and pulling them up for him. It is not nearly as sexy of an experience as taking off the pants. Funny how that worked, Dave thinks to himself as Karkat helps him into his sling. One direction it was kinky, and the other direction was...juvenile. There was a fine, fine line.

Dave feels his heart squeeze when Karkat steps forward to kiss him, and it pulls Dave out of his silly thoughts. Karkat pulls away from the kiss and Dave gives him a goofy, besotted smile.

“So, if we’re not eating at Olive Garden, where are we going?” Dave asks, as they head out of Dave’s room.

-

Karkat slips on his shoes and grabs the blanket, giving Dave a nervous smile.

“Picnic in the park?” He meant for it to come out as a statement. “We drove past a park near here a couple times, and restaurants can be pretty loud, so I figured we could pick up the food and eat outside.”

He bites his lip. This seemed a lot more romantic and cute in his head. Saying it out loud makes it sound… lame. Boring. Nowhere near the amount of romance that Dave deserves.

“Afterwards… I’m not sure,” he admits, feeling like a failure. “Is there anything you’d like to do?”

-

A picnic? That was...

Really fucking cute, holy shit.

Dave is certain he blushes right down to his neck, so to hide it he just surges forwards and kisses Karkat firmly on the lips, and he doesn’t pull away until he’s sure the colour has faded from his cheeks.

“That sounds real fuckin’ good, baby,” Dave says, cupping one of Karkat’s cheeks while kissing the other.

A quiet little evening picnic in the park sounded...romantic as fuck. Karkat is asking Dave if there’s anything he’d like to do, too. He isn’t sure if he can outbench Karkat of all people in regards to romance. He ponders the question for a moment. Then he perks up. There was something he’d always wanted to try, but since he or John didn’t have a car...

“Can we go to one of those things where they play a movie outside?” Dave asks eagerly, “They’re called...drive-ins? I’m pretty sure there’s one just a drive out into the boondocks, in the next town over. I have no idea what the fuck is playing, but, it could be like a luck of the draw type of thing.”

-

Dave doesn’t seem disappointed in his plan, if the excited kiss he gets is anything to go by. And he wants to go to a _drive-in_ movie, that’s so cute. Looks like they were having dinner and a movie after all, just with a twist.

“That sounds fucking great,” Karkat says, moving closer to kiss the freckles on Dave’s cheeks. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t move, continuing to mouth along Dave’s jaw, smiling at Dave’s little laugh. Finally, he forces himself back and grabs Dave’s hand, leading him down to the car.

He has Dave stay in the car as he dips inside the Olive Garden to grab their food. It’s packed and loud as fuck, so he’s glad they’re going to be eating outside in the quiet. Then it’s off to the park, which is near empty thanks to the later hour. 

The sun hasn’t set yet but it’s getting there, and Karkat wishes he’d brought candles. Or would Dave think that’s too cheesy? Karkat _adores_ over-the-top romantic bullshit but Dave doesn’t seem the type.

He spreads the blanket out and settles down, grinning at Dave as he passes over the take-out containers.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he says, and takes a bite of his underwhelming lasagna.

-

Karkat lingers at the door kissing Dave a little more, but Dave is certainly not complaining. Then Karkat is pulling away and they head out to the car, hand-in-hand.

Dave’s heart beats like crazy the whole time, which is pretty silly of him considering Dave has had Karkat’s dick in his mouth and his ass, and yet holding Karkat’s hand for the first time is giving him butterflies?

They get to the car and Dave sets up the tunes, as usual. He just picks a playlist with some chill songs with no lyrics, tapping his fingers along to the slow beat as they drive to Olive Garden. Karkat has Dave wait in the car while he picks up their order and comes back out a few minutes later with a large brown bag that he sets on the backseat.

They arrive at the park and find a nice secluded spot under a big tree that gives them a great scenic view of the entire park. Karkat sets up the blanket and Dave joins him, setting his phone off to the side to provide them with a little light from his screen. It ain’t candlelight, but it would have to do. Dave leaves the playlist on, turning down the volume so it can just softly play in the background while they eat.

Karkat passes him his container of mushroom ravioli and Dave sets it in front of him, opens up the container of breadsticks and dunks one into his pasta sauce.

“Starving,” Dave says, thinking of Karkat’s abandoned spaghetti that he never finished. It was really good, but he was also excited to finally get to try something else from Olive Garden beside their breadsticks.

He sets the breadstick aside and stabs at a piece of ravioli and pops it into his mouth. Fuck, that was good.

“I come to skate at this park all the time,” Dave says, “There’s another park a little ways away that has an actual skate park in it, but this one’s good for just like, a chill ride.”

-

Dave seems to be enjoying his food, which is good. Doesn’t make Karkat feel too great about his own food that Dave was equally enthusiastic about, but that’s fine. Karkat’s food is mediocre at best and as long Dave’s happy he doesn’t give a fuck.

“I don’t know how the fuck you can do that,” he says. “Terezi’s older sister skateboards and the one time she let me try I immediately fell on my ass.”

He’d had a bruise on his lower back for over a week. 

“I’m shit at anything besides running,” Karkat says. “I can’t do anything that requires balance without risking my life and the lives of everyone around me.”

He doesn’t tell Dave about the time they went to a skating rink for Nepeta’s birthday and he ended up causing a 10-person pileup. He’d like to retain some dignity.

-

Dave gives a little shrug. “I only picked it up after I moved here, and needed a faster way to get to work that wasn’t public transit.” Dave explains, “the bus is fine, but I wanted something more active. So I bought myself a board and started to practice.”

Dave swirls up another bite of pasta and takes a bite, swallowing before he continues.

“I could only push myself around on it at first, and even that took some doing. But once I got the stance down, it wasn’t too bad.” Dave goes on, “After that, I started looking up videos on how to do tricks and stuff. And I met some dudes at the skate park who were cool enough to show me the ropes.”

(He hooked up with a couple of them, too, but that didn’t seem like appropriate Actual Date talk, so he keeps that to himself.)

“I could teach you how to ride sometime. Once I’m healed, of course,” Dave says, turning to flash Karkat a cheeky grin. “Your ass would look hot as fuck in some skate shorts.”

-

The idea of Dave wanting him in his life after he heals, after his cast is off, no matter the outcome, has his heart stuttering wildly in his chest. He tries not to show it, instead pointing his fork at Dave.

“Only if you’re aware of what you’re getting yourself into,” Karkat says. “And keep at least a 6 foot distance so I don’t eat shit _and_ break your arm again.”

He ignores the ass comment entirely. 

“If I’m able to move a few inches without snapping my neck it’ll be a miracle,” he says, taking another bite. “Does this mean you’ll come with me to the gym to lift weights?”

-

“I’d never let you fall, baby.” Dave promises, leaning over to bump his shoulder against Karkat’s.

Karkat asks Dave about the gym, and that makes Dave perk up. Getting to see Karkat lifting weights sounds like a surefire way to wind up popping a boner in the middle of the gym. Karkat probably looks sexy as fuck lifting weights, and Dave would not be able to keep his slutty little hands to himself in that scenario.

Dave’s lips pull into a saucy smile. He’s still pressed into Karkat’s shoulder, so he leans in and presses a kiss to Karkat’s jaw.

“I don’t think I’d make a very good spotter,” Dave says into his ear, “I get distracted _very_ easily.”

-

Dave’s breath tickles his ear and to hide his shiver he turns his head, capturing Dave’s mouth with his own. He meant for it to be a quick kiss, but his hand puts down the take-out container and grabs a fistful of Dave’s hair of its own accord. He flicks his tongue teasingly against the roof of Dave’s mouth and pulls away with Dave’s lower lip still trapped between his teeth. 

“If you can behave for an hour I think I’ll be able to make it up to you,” he says, grinning as Dave pants lightly.

The real question is if Karkat will be able to behave, or if he’ll break and drag Dave into the bathroom and kiss him until their lips are bruised.

-

Dave expected Karkat to try and push him off, to tell him to stop being so horny for five fucking seconds and eat his dinner before it gets cold. But Karkat does neither of those things.

Instead Karkat kisses Dave firmly on the lips, even reaching up and gripping Dave’s hair, which causes Dave to gasp. As soon as his mouth is open Karkat slips his tongue inside his mouth, and they kiss open-mouthed and sloppy for a moment before Karkat pulls away, dragging his teeth across Dave’s bottom lip.

Dave is left flushed and panting as Karkat releases him and goes back to his food.

Fuck. _Fuck._

Karkat was too goddamn sexy, it was absolutely fucking unfair. Dave was going to get sent to horny jail because he was never going to be able to stop trying to jump Karkat’s bones literally twenty-four seven.

Dave tries to collect himself, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand as his breathing goes back to normal. He goes back to his food, picking up his breadstick and swirling it around in more sauce.

“And what do I get, if I’m a good boy?” Dave asks, making a show of sliding the breadstick into his mouth and closing his lips around it before taking a bite.

-

Karkat smiles, slowly chewing his lasagna like he’s thinking hard.

“When we get back from the gym,” he says, voice light and casual, “I could ride you into the mattress.”

He takes a drink of water, ignoring his hot face and pretending like he says shit like this all the time. He tries not to imagine it, because that is just setting himself up for failure.

“Sound like something you’d be interested in?” Karkat asks, raising his eyebrows. He… doesn’t actually know if Dave would be into that. Maybe Dave prefers bottoming. Karkat likes to switch it up, but if that’s what Dave likes he doesn’t have a problem with it.

-

Dave swallows his bite of breadstick too hard and for a split second he thinks he’s going to fucking choke. He grabs his own water and takes a careful swig, eyes watering behind his shades from the effort it takes not to cough.

When he’s gotten the bread down, and his chest stops burning, Dave is finally able to appreciate what Karkat said. He hasn’t topped Karkat yet (and there’s a yet, eventually he’ll actually get to, Karkat wants him to, holy shit—) but damn if he hasn’t thought about it several times, well before they’d even kissed for the first time.

He can picture it, laying back with Karkat riding his cock. Dave would get to squeeze his gorgeous thighs and run his hands up his stomach and chest while Karkat fucked himself on Dave’s dick...he would probably make the hottest sounds and faces...he’d have showered at the gym so he’s smelling all nice and has that post-workout glow...only for Dave to get him all sweaty again with a much better workout...

Dave finally feels like he’s able to speak without croaking from nearly choking, so he leans back over and kisses Karkat on the shoulder.

“I’d definitely be interested,” Dave says softly.

He presses more kisses along Karkat’s shoulder, towards his neck. “But, what if your legs were tired from your workout?” Dave murmurs between kisses, “You’d probably get pretty tired, after riding me for a bit.”

Dave gets to Karkat’s neck, and licks a stripe right up to Karkat’s ear. “But that’s alright, I’d help you out,” he purrs, “I’d flip you onto your back and take over so you can just lie back and cum.”

-

Karkat can’t hide the shudder that wracks through him this time, nor the images that invade his mind. Dave below him, red eyes staring up at him as he lifts up and drops down onto his cock, over and over. Dave flipping them when Karkat’s thighs start trembling, when he gets frustrated at having to slow down, and pounding into him hard and fast.

Dave would probably tell him such sweet things, too, in his lilting, musical voice. About how good Karkat looks, how great he feels, until Karkat has to pull him into a kiss to stop him from talking, because one more word would have him spill, and he wants it to last as long as possible.

“Yeah?” he breathes out. “Would you take care of me, baby?”

Fuck, no this isn’t what he needs to be doing right now. They’re on a cute little picnic date, about to go on a cute little drive-in movie date.

“Dont answer that. If you want to make it to that movie you should stop talking,” Karkat says. The only thing stopping him from pinning Dave to the ground right here is public indecency laws.

-

Dave opens his mouth to tell Karkat just how exactly he planned to take care of him when Karkat suddenly tells him to stop talking. Aw. No fun. But Dave did want to be able to make it to the drive-in. 

“Alright,” Dave acquiesces, pulling away and going back to his food, “I’ll behave.” 

He puts a little emphasis on the word, like it’s a secret code for Karkat so that he knows Dave is trying to tell him this isn’t over. Then he goes back to his pasta and breadsticks and they enjoy their meal and the tranquility of the park in silence. 

Once they finish their food, Karkat clears the garbage and rolls up the blanket, and they head back to the car. Dave puts in directions on Karkat’s phone for how to get to the drive-in, and Dave sets the chill music back up on the aux. 

Once again, Dave wishes his arm wasn’t in a cast. Because if his left arm was free, he could put his hand on Karkat’s knee and massage his leg while Karkat drove.

-

Dave doesn’t say anything else, which is both a relief and a disappointment. Karkat doesn’t know if he could sit here, listening to Dave talk about all the things he’d do to him, and _not_ act on any of them. Dave is too goddamn tempting and Karkat wants to go back to his apartment, bail on this date entirely, and make love until his dick breaks.

God, he really came three times today, didn’t he? He’s usually a one and done kind of guy, and if his partner wants to keep going he’ll use his hand or mouth or a toy. Three times in a row isn’t something he’s done before, and he really feels up to going another goddamn round.

After the movie, though, if Dave wants to, he tells himself. They eat in the serene peacefulness of the park and Karkat forces any thoughts of edging Dave until he cries from desperation out of his head.

The drive to the next town over doesn’t take too long, and Karkat follows the directions from the gps while Dave bobs his head and bounces his leg in the passenger seat. They wind up in a large parking lot with a bunch of other cars already there, and Karkat pays their entry, then parks. They have a decent view of the large screen the movie will be projected on.

“I think they’re selling popcorn,” Karkat says. “Do you want some?”

-

Dave looks over at the small building off to the side of the field where several groups are coming in and out of. It looked like that was where the restrooms and concession were.

“Yeah,” Dave says, “And if there’s cotton candy I’m getting that, too. I’m missing out on the fair this year so I gotta take what I can get.”

They step out of the car and head over to the concession building, where there’s a lineup of people waiting to get food. Dave sees buckets of cotton candy at the front counter and grins in triumph. There’s an old-fashioned light-up letterboard with the titles of the movies playing that week. Dave checks the board for the movie that’s playing that evening.

“What’s _It’s A Wonderful Life_?” he wonders out loud.

-

Karkat glances over at the letterboard, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s a really old christmas movie,” he says. “I’ve never seen it. Why the fuck are they playing it now?”

Karkat isn’t really into black and white movies, but whatever. When they get to the counter he orders a large popcorn, cotton candy for Dave, and some drinks. Before Dave can even reach for his wallet Karkat is handing over his card, ignoring the look on Dave’s face.

He’s _maybe_ spent a bit more on Dave than he should have, so far. In Karkat’s defence, he did hit Dave with his car. He doesn’t have a shit ton of money, since he works at a shitty indie coffee shop, but he makes enough to get by, with Sollux paying half the rent.

Karkat’s budget always takes a bit of a hit when he’s dating someone. He sets aside some money every month to spend on his friends, but he kind of loses all common sense, especially at first. Besides, Karkat’s fairly certain Dave’s never been spoiled before, and Karkat plans to fucking spoil him rotten. Dave deserves it, after all, and if it makes him decide to keep Karkat around longer then all the better. 

-

“A Christmas movie, huh?” Dave says. Then he shrugs. “Maybe they’re doing a Christmas in July type of thing? I can dig it.”

Whatever. If the movie was lame then he and Karkat could just make out in the backseat or something.

They get to the front and Karkat orders and pays for all the food before Dave can even touch his wallet. Dave pouts, but Karkat doesn’t give him the time of day, shoving the bucket of cotton candy into Dave’s hand, picking up their popcorn and drinks and then heading back out to the car.

They get back to the car and start munching on the popcorn as they wait for the movie to start. After a few minutes, everyone gets the warning on the screen to turn off their headlights and make any last minute stops to the concession. Karkat switches on the radio to the correct station to hear the audio playing, as some trailers for newer releases begin to play.

Then, the feature presentation begins. It opens up with a bunch of little stars talking to each other. And it turns out they’re all angels conversing up in Heaven.

Oh, yeah. Definitely a Christmas movie if there was angels and shit. It was pretty cute so far, they were able to get the personality of the angel Clarence off by just a little blinking dot. Dave’s never seen a black and white movie before. He thought it wouldn’t have any humour in it at all, that it would just be a super corny dramatic Christmas movie where everyone talked fancy. But so far it was actually kind of silly.

“Well, so far there’s no elves or reindeer, so not all that Christmas-y.” Dave says, popping the lid on his cotton candy.

He rips off a long strand and then leans over to Karkat. “Babe, quick, before it melts.”

And then he pops one end of the cotton candy in his mouth, leaving Karkat to take the other end.

-

The movie seems kind of cheesy so far. Karkat’s not sure he’ll like it. Christmas movies aren’t really his thing. But he tosses some popcorn into his mouth and settles in to turn his brain off. Then Dave is getting his attention, and when Karkat looks over he’s staring at him expectantly, a strip of cotton candy hanging from his lips and a smile on his face.

Karkat’s heart beats loudly in his ears. Fuck, Dave is so goddamn cute. He doesn’t even hesitate to lean over and take the cotton candy in his mouth, following the trail up to Dave’s mouth as they meet in the middle. 

He hums, licking into Dave’s mouth, following the sweet taste with his tongue. He cups Dave’s jaw with his hand, using it to tilt Dave’s head to the side, giving him better access. He kisses him until his neck twinges, then kisses him some more, nibbling at Dave’s lip and lovingly sliding their tongues together. 

When Karkat pulls back an inch to breathe, a thin trail of saliva connects them. Karkat smiles, wiping his mouth.

“Delicious,” he says, leaning in to peck Dave on the mouth once more before settling back into his seat. “Thanks babe. What did we miss?”

-

When Karkat pulls away from their cotton candy kiss, Dave feels lightheaded.

Karkat asks a question and it takes Dave a moment for his brain to catch up.

“Hnuh...?” Dave mumbles, still leaning over, eyes fluttering open. He looks over at the screen but...yeah, he has no idea what’s happening. Some bratty little girl is all bent out of shape because George isn’t giving her any attention, or something.

“I have no idea,” Dave says, leaning back in his seat.

He lifts the bucket of cotton candy up, still staring at the screen.

“Wanna help me eat this entire bucket of cotton candy?”

-

Karkat eyes the cotton candy warily. He’s not usually one for sweets, really, unless it’s chocolate. Even then he prefers the dark kind. 

“Depends,” he says, leaning over to rip off another long strip, holding one end of it up to Dave’s lips. “Does it mean I get to kiss you again?”

It’s corny and ridiculous, not smooth at all, nothing like the sexy shit Dave manages to pull off, but Karkat will eat that entire bucket of cotton candy himself and endure the stomach ache it causes if it means he’ll have Dave’s lips pressed against his own once more.

-

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Dave says, leaning in and taking the candy into his mouth.

He pulls it all out of Karkat’s fingers with his tongue, holding the melting sugar in his mouth as he quickly leans in and presses his lips to Karkat’s. He licks at Karkat’s lips with a sugar-coated tongue, and when Karkat opens his mouth, Dave passes the melted sugar into Karkat’s mouth.

It’s like feeding a baby bird, only sugary sweet and more than a little sexy. At least to Dave. And if Karkat’s into it, too, then Dave won’t even need any words on his arms to prove that Karkat is meant to be with him.

-

Dave passes the melting sugar confection into Karkat’s mouth with his tongue and that should be gross as fuck, but _god_ why is it hot? Karkat accepts it eagerly, moaning softly into Dave’s mouth.

Karkat likes to think he’s fairly good at kissing. Other things could probably use improvement, but he has kissing down to a fucking artform, and he uses everything he has now, with Dave. He needs to give Dave reason to stay with him, even if his words aren’t on Dave’s arm.

And what if his words _are_ there, and Dave tires of him anyway? Soulmates aren’t _guaranteed_ to work out, and it would be just Karkat’s fucking luck to ruin this like he does everything else.

So he pours himself into the kiss, tries to tell Dave _I love you_ with a flick of his tongue, say _stay with me forever_ with a nip to his lip. He’s a bit miffed about the console between them, keeping him from scooting over and pulling Dave into his lap.

Karkat pulls back, pops a bit of cotton candy into his mouth, and dives back in.

-

It is the sloppiest and stickiest kiss of Dave’s entire life. He and Karkat are going to walk away from this with bright-pink stains all over their lips, teeth and tongues. But Dave couldn’t give a shit, because despite all the ridiculously sweet sugar filling Dave’s mouth, Karkat is managing somehow to keep kissing him so fucking good.

Dave thought this might dissolve into them getting grossed out and laughing it off, maybe just feed each other pieces of cotton candy until the fun wore off. But he’s literally moaning between their mouths, as he swallows down the sticky, melted sugar.

Dave’s practically climbing over the centre console in order to get closer, grabbing at Karkat’s shoulder to keep himself upright. Finally he pulls away, his lips sticky and pink and breath heavy.

“Backseat?” he pants.

-

Karkat laughs, bright and loud and obnoxious. He brings his hand up to muffle the sound until it dies down.

“Thought you wanted to watch the movie?” he teases, grabbing Dave’s hand from his shoulder so he can kiss his palm. “After you.”

Dave clambers ungracefully into the back, giving Karkat a wonderful view of his ass. He’s tempted to reach out and squeeze it, but he doesn’t know if Dave would be okay with that so he refrains. He follows Dave just as ungracefully.

Once in the backseat, instead of pulling Dave into his lap, he climbs into Dave’s. He dips his head to lick across the hickeys on Dave’s neck. There’s not much space left, unless he focuses on turning them into a sort of necklace, which… hm. That’s an idea.

-

Karkat laughs, and it’s fucking stunning. Dave grins stupidly, feeling like he just won the lottery.

His heart melts to soft butter as Karkat kisses his palm, and then Dave scrambles into the backseat. He could have easily just gotten out, opened the door, and gotten into the back. And with a big cast on his arm, that probably would have been the smart move. But he’s already committed to the bit—he may or may not be acting out just to see if he can get Karkat to laugh like that again, but that’s nobody’s business but his own.

Karkat follows him into the back in the exact same way, and Dave’s heart swells with affection to see it. He can’t believe he gets to be with someone who’s as unapologetically stupid as he is. Being serious is for fuckin’ posers, anyway.

Dave expects Karkat to pin him down to the seat or to get pulled into Karkat’s lap, both of which sound a-okay to him. But yet again, Karkat keeps him on his toes and surprises him but crawling into his lap instead.

Dave really should keep a marker on hand so he can start a tally on his cast for every single time he wished he didn’t have the cast on for the single reason that he wanted to be able to touch Karkat with both hands.

“Hi there, baby,” Dave murmurs, wrapping his arm around Karkat’s waist. “C’mere.”

Dave runs his hand up Karkat’s back and cups the back of Karkat’s neck, pushing Karkat down onto his lips.

-

Karkat doesn’t usually get to be the one in this position. He’s almost always the one who gets climbed on, the big spoon, because he’s almost always the larger one in relationships. Dave doesn’t seem to mind though, calling him _baby_ so fondly that Karkat might actually cry.

He sighs into the kiss, this one softer than the ones they shared up front, less rushed. Dave still tastes like cotton candy. Karkat starts laughing, breaking off the kiss to hide his stupid ugly giggles in Dave’s shirt.

“I can’t believe,” he says between bouts of laughter, “that I’m making out with my boyfriend in the backseat of my car at a drive-in movie.”

He’s so fucking giddy that it takes a moment for him to realize what he said, and the laughter dies on his tongue. He sits up straighter, staring at Dave with wide eyes.

“Fuck, sorry, I didn’t,” he stammers out. “I mean--”

He’s lost for fucking words. He’s so goddamn stupid. They haven’t talked about what they are, label wise, at all. And here he is, calling Dave his fucking _boyfriend_ , on their first goddamn date. Maybe Dave doesn’t _want_ to be his boyfriend. Maybe he just wants to have a fling, be with Karkat until someone better comes along. Maybe he just wants Karkat as a backup, someone who’ll be there no matter what, because he’s bound to Dave by fate. The worst part is that Karkat would _let_ him, let Dave use him over and over again and always be grateful when he came back.

Dave wouldn’t do that. Karkat _knows_ Dave wouldn’t do that. It doesn’t stop his mind from throwing out all the shittiest possible scenarios for him to angst over.

-

Karkat kisses him slow and soft and sweet and Dave runs his hand down his back, trying his best to make up for the fact he’s only got one hand to touch Karkat with. He’ll need to make up for that later.

Karkat breaks off their kiss to start giggling and the mirth is contagious, Dave starts grinning stupidly even though he’s not sure why exactly Karkat started laughing. But he’s too besotted to care, and just runs his fingers through Karkat’s hair while he gets the words out.

_Boyfriend._

Karkat thought Dave was his boyfriend?

Karkat _wants_ Dave to be his boyfriend?

But then Karkat is pulling away, and he looked horrified. He starts apologizing and then trails off, tearing his eyes away from Dave and looking downright miserable. It makes Dave’s heart sink to see it. He wants Karkat to go back to smiling and laughing.

“You want to be my boyfriend?” Dave asks, awed.

That was a pretty stupid question. Karkat brought him out on this date, insisted on paying for everything...this morning Karkat kissed him and then fucked him and called him things like _babe_ and _baby_ and _honey_ and _sweetheart_ …

Dave’s words were on Karkat’s arm. Dave was Karkat’s _soulmate_.

So why wouldn’t Karkat want to go out with him?

But what if Dave wasn’t his? Would he really want to date someone who couldn’t be fated to him? Would he want to be with someone who he had an incomplete bond with?

-

Dave isn’t laughing at him. He doesn’t sound disgusted. Karkat knew he wouldn’t, even if he was about to get rejected Dave would be kind. But the fear was still there.

Dave’s voice is hushed, and there’s something in it that Karkat can’t place, but it doesn’t sound bad. He bites his lip, nodding, feeling more vulnerable than he ever has in his life.

“Yeah,” he says. “If-if you want me.”

He takes a breath. Dave needs to know what he’ll be getting himself into, if he accepts. 

“I’m clingy,” he starts. “I’m grumpy as fuck and I’m _not_ a morning person. I’m loud and obnoxious and I cry at the end of movies. I can’t fucking stand when people are rude to customer service workers and I _will_ make a scene and it _will_ be embarrassing for everyone involved. I get myself worked up over the stupidest shit and spend hours at the gym because I have anger management issues. My friends are batshit crazy and unfortunately you will have to meet them at some point. They may cause you bodily harm.”

He deflates a bit, hunching into himself. “But I--” _love_ “--really like you, Dave. And if you want to try, I’d love to be your boyfriend. If you want.”

-

Karkat starts listing off things about himself and once he’s finished Dave is staring at him, blinking rapidly behind his shades, mouth slightly agape. His heart is beating so fast it feels like it isn’t beating at all. Dave feels like he’s standing on a precipice, and whatever he says next was going to alter things between the two of them for good.

“I have a hard time letting people get close to me,” Dave says quietly, “I wake up multiple times throughout the night and I’m an early riser because I spent eighteen years not being able to relax because I didn’t know when the next strife would happen. I slept with a sword beside my mattress for the first six months I lived with John. It’s still under my bed. I talk to myself, I’m forgetful, and I’m honestly pretty shit at taking care of myself because nobody ever taught me how.”

Dave swallows. He takes his arm away from Karkat’s waist and pulls off his shades and sets them aside, then looks back up at Karkat.

“So I love that you’re clingy. You’re always looking out for me, and asking me how I’m feeling, and getting me to...to open up more. More than I ever have with anyone. And I like that you’re loud because it means you can never sneak up on me and I don’t ever have to wonder where you are. If you start bitching out someone who’s being a dick to service workers I will totally be on the sidelines backing you up like a proud soccer mom at her child’s game. I’ll just be clapping my hands along to every point you make and waggling a sign with your name on it written in glitter glue...” 

Dave trails off a bit, then continues, faster and louder and voice high with nerves, “Okay, that sort of got away from me. Point is, I’m always gonna be in your corner because you’ve always been in mine. So I’ll make you coffee in the mornings so you don’t have to be grumpy, and I’ll let you cry on my shoulder when there’s a sad part in a movie, and I’ll be your spotter when you gotta burn off steam at the gym.”

Dave reaches up and cups the side of Karkat’s face.

“And whatever frustration is left over post-workout I highly encourage you to get out with me, in the bedroom,” Dave says plainly.

“I hope your friends never have to cause me bodily harm, because I never want to give them a reason to. I never want to hurt you, Karkat. So if Terezi punches me in the face or whatever, it certainly won’t ever be because of something I did to you acting like a total asswipe excuse for a boyfriend. I wanna treat you the way you fuckin’ deserve to be treated.”

Dave smiles warmly at Karkat as he runs his thumb along his cheek.

“Karkat, I already told you I really hope that you’re my soulmate,” he says, “So it kind of goes without saying that I would be stoked to be your boyfriend.”

-

Karkat’s eyes are stinging halfway through Dave’s speech, and by the end tears have overflowed and are dripping down his face. He leans into Dave’s touch, letting his eyes drift shut, tears catching on his lashes as he tries to keep his face from crumpling. He’s such a fucking ugly crier and Dave doesn’t need to see that, not after saying something like _that_.

He turns his head to kiss at Dave’s hand, tasting the salt there. He opens his eyes to look at Dave’s handsome face and leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, then hides in Dave’s neck.

“You’re way too good for me,” he mumbles. He doesn’t even know if Dave can understand him, like this, but he continues, “I’m so fucking glad you’re my soulmate.”

He is. Even if Karkat isn’t Dave’s soulmate, Karkat feels fucking blessed being able to have Dave in his life. He’s always fallen fast and hard for people--usually people as mean as Karkat looks--but this is a new fucking record. It’s been four days and Karkat is in _love_. He recognizes the feeling, but it’s bigger than it’s ever been before and shows no sign of ceasing its growth.

-

Karkat’s crying by the time Dave finishes speaking, tears running openly down his face and clinging to his long, dark lashes. Dave wipes a few of the tears away with his thumb as he continues to stroke Karkat’s cheek, but they just keep coming.

Karkat kisses Dave’s palm again, and the gesture once again makes Dave’s heart lurch. Then Karkat leans down, pecks Dave on the cheek and then hides his face in Dave’s shoulder. Dave can already feel the skin on his neck getting wet with tears.

Dave rubs his hand up and down Karkat’s back, honestly at a loss for what to say or do. He doesn’t cry in front of people which usually means people don’t typically cry in front of him. He hopes the touch is reassuring at least.

Karkat doesn’t seem upset. He’s holding Dave and kissing him and telling Dave he’s glad Dave is his soulmate. But it’s all paired with _tears_ and Dave has no idea what to make of it.

Dave opens his mouth and, against his better judgement, says the first words that come to his mind.

“You’re really cute when you cry.”

-

Dave is being incredibly sweet, running his hand up and down Karkat’s back while he cries pathetically into his neck, trying to get ahold of himself. It’s comforting, and Karkat focuses on the back and forth of Dave’s hand, matching his breathing to it as he calms down. 

And then Dave says he’s cute when he cries. 

Karkat has a quick, very vivid memory flare up, a man’s bitter voice saying _jesus christ, can you keep it together for five fucking minutes? You’re so fucking ugly when you cry._

He pulls back to stare at Dave, his tears startled to a stop as he gapes.

“ _What_?” he asks, baffled.

Karkat has seen himself cry. Unfortunately. There have been numerous bathroom breakdowns and upsetting glimpses in mirrors throughout his life. It’s not _cute_ , in any way. 

-

Karkat pulls away, and suddenly he’s not crying anymore. His eyes are blown wide, his mouth hanging open, and the tears have stopped. There’s still tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes are wet and sparkly, but he looks...absolutely befuddled.

Dave gulps. Then opens his mouth and lets the words pour out of him like a bursting geyser.

“Uh, that probably came off really weird. I don’t mean like it’s a good thing that you’re crying, I mean I don’t want to make you cry I don’t think that is remotely cute. And if you were in like actual distress that wouldn’t be cute or good either, that would be the total opposite of that and if I was a witness to that I would be doing everything in my power trying to make it stop. Just trying to go for boyfriend of the year over here and be making damn sure your tears are not distress tears but like...well I only figured this out, uh—today. But I guess tears can happen when you’re happy, too? Because you didn’t seem upset just now but you were crying anyway. And uh—I’m pretty sure I was crying earlier when...when you were fucking me. And that certainly wasn’t because the sex was awful. Quite the opposite in fact. It was literally the most perfect and beautiful sex that I was fucking weeping with joy. At least that’s my takeaway from it. And so when I say weird shit like ‘you’re cute when you cry’ I mean like, when you cry at a sappy movie, or a sad commercial with a puppy, or when I give you such an immaculate dicking you start sobbing. Or, in this case, when you cry happy tears because I told you I wanted to be your boyfriend. Your eyes get all sparkly and look like melted chocolate and your lashes get all wet and look even longer and darker and...and you’re just really fucking pretty, all the time, even when you cry.”

Dave clamps his mouth shut, staring into Karkat’s eyes as he feels fire burst across his entire face. When would he learn to put a fucking cork in it.

-

Karkat doesn’t get any less confused as Dave speaks, his brow furrowing as he tries to follow along. He’s already forming a reply but then his brain gets stuck on _melted chocolate_ and _pretty_. No one has ever called him pretty before.

Dave is blushing, so red his face is probably throbbing with it, and Karkat has to say _something_ , but Dave has once again taken him entirely off guard.

“Pretty?” he repeats weakly, a hand coming up to wipe at his face. 

“You really are blind, aren’t you?” he chuckles wetly and pecks Dave’s lips with his own. 

“Thank you, baby,” he says. “I’m sorry for sobbing all over you.”

-

Dave leans forward and bumps their noses together. “It’s a light-sensitivity, not blindness, you ignorant chode,” he says lightly, “and it certainly doesn’t impact my ability to see how pretty my boyfriend is.”

Dave kisses Karkat on the cheek, and goes back to sliding his hand up and down Karkat’s back slowly.

“Nothing to be sorry about, babe,” Dave says, “Least we’re finally even now. You shed enough tears that it made up for the two times I cried in front of you to your one.”

-

Dave says _boyfriend_ and Karkat’s breath catches in his throat as his stomach flips. He can’t even formulate a response, so he leans in and peppers kisses all across Dave’s face, a smile tugging across his lips. Dave has too many freckles to kiss individually but Karkat tries his damndest regardless.

Eventually he has to put his plans to kiss every last one of Dave’s freckles on the backburner, and climbs off of Dave’s lap, his knees starting to protest. He can see the movie playing out on the screen and sighs.

“I’m never going to pay attention to another movie when you’re around, am I?” he asks, laying his head on Dave’s shoulder and winding their fingers together. “My boyfriend. Too damn distracting.”

-

By the time Karkat is done downright assaulting Dave’s face with kisses, Dave is grinning like an idiot. Karkat climbs off his lap which Dave wants to complain about but he doesn’t since Karkat doesn’t wind up going too far. He leans his head on Dave’s shoulder and holds Dave’s hand, and Dave feels a warmth tingle up his arm from where their hands are clasped and up into his brain, making it fluffy and hazy.

Dave turns to press a kiss to the top of Karkat’s head, and then rests his cheek in the same spot.

“Well maybe if you weren’t so kissable, and also incredibly good at getting kissed, and kissing back, then I wouldn’t be distracting you so much.” Dave says, “But, alas, you are, so I am.”

He’s not sure how much of the movie they’ve missed, but some guy in ill-fitting rugby gear and a girl in a bathrobe are walking down the street and singing a song about Buffalo girls.

Dave buries his nose into Karkat’s hair, breathing in the smell of his vanilla-scented conditioner with a smile, as he continues to watch the movie in silence. This seems like it’s gonna lead to something pretty romantic between these two characters, and Dave knows Karkat’s eats that shit up with a spoon. So he stays quiet, and lets him watch, squeezing Karkat’s hand and rubbing along the top of his hand with his thumb.

-

Dave is sniffing his hair again, which is weird but cute as fuck. Karkat pays attention to the movie for awhile. A man who he assumes to be the main character is asking the clear love interest what she wished for, and then says he’ll lasso the moon for her, so she can swallow it and have moonbeams shoot from her fingers and hair.

It’s sappy and silly and touching and Karkat internally swoons and externally grins like an idiot as an onlooker demands the two kiss. 

“I might have to watch this on my own,” he says to Dave. “This looks cute as shit, what the fuck. Why haven’t I watched this before?”

He may need to reevaluate his stance on black and white movies.

-

“You know for a Christmas movie, so far it hasn’t been all that Christmasy.” Dave says, “I guess that’s why they’re playing it now, since it’s kind of a grey area for a holiday movie.”

Dave pauses for a moment, and then snickers. “Heh. Grey area.”

“But since it’s a Christmas movie, maybe we oughta actually watch it again around Christmas,” Dave goes on, “Maybe set up another blanket fort with Christmas lights, drink some egg nog until we decide if it’s good or not, and watch a bunch of classic Christmas movies.”

Dave brings Karkat’s hand up to his mouth and kisses at his knuckles.

“My birthday is in December, too.” Dave says, “On the third. Not exactly close to Christmas, but...whatever. When’s yours, babe?”

If they were going to be dating, it was probably pretty important that Dave knew when Karkat’s birthday was.

-

Dave is talking about spending Christmas together, and kissing his hand, and Karkat is absolutely whipped. Fuck, he’s got the best boyfriend in the world.

“That sounds great,” he says, hoping the sap doesn’t leak into his voice. “My birthday is June twelfth.”

He’ll have to save up to get Dave a good present. What would he like? Something to do with his skateboard, maybe? Karkat could ask Latula about that. Or maybe something for his music? Karkat has no goddamn idea what he could do for that, but surely there’s something.

Or maybe something more comfort related. Quality hot chocolate, fuzzy socks. Maybe a weighted blanket? Dave might like that.

Karkat bets Dave’s never had a real Christmas meal. Maybe he could invite him home, introduce him to his dad and Kankri. It would undoubtedly be a disaster, just like every time he and Kankri are in a room together, so maybe not, then. He can cook Dave a Christmas dinner himself.

And he’ll have double the opportunity to get Dave presents, since his birthday is around then too. Karkat is pretty shit at baking, unfortunately, but he can buy a nice cake from a store. 

-

“Summer baby, huh? We really balance each other out.” Dave keeps kissing at Karkat’s knuckles, then peppers little kisses up each finger.

Thinking about things like spending Christmas and birthdays and other holidays with Karkat just seems so automatic and simple now. Like that was just the inevitable and obvious conclusion.

Dave’s so excited to create all kinds of memories with Karkat it almost makes him impatient, like he could vibrate right out of his chair with anticipation.

He never thought it would be possible to like someone this much. And that if it ever happened, it would be fucking terrifying. But with Karkat, it feels so natural and perfect and right. Like to do anything else would be what’s wrong. That being apart from him is now what’s terrifying to consider.

Karkat says he’s the clingy one, but Dave—

Dave’s got abandonment issues. It never manifested with any of his casual hookups, but he certainly felt that way about his friends, the few that he had. He was so terrified of losing any of them that just the thought of it set his teeth on edge.

And now, thinking that he could lose Karkat—Dave can’t even think about it. Why should he think about how this could end when it had only just begun?

He just needed to live in the moment, and enjoy this. Karkat was here, right now, in his arms. That’s all that mattered.

Dave presses another long kiss to the back of Karkat’s hand and then puts their hands back down.

“So, Kat. Anything else in mind for our date, after the movie is over?” Dave asks.

-

Quiet, soft moments have been few and far between in Karkat’s relationships, even at the beginning when things are at their best. Sometimes they’d slip in, between the sex and the fighting, but they were incredibly rare. 

It’s not like that with Dave. It’s still early, so maybe when the honeymoon period is over they’ll get less frequent. But for now, Karkat is content to let Dave kiss tingling sensations into his fingers, let his heart melt into a little puddle. It’s difficult to imagine fighting--really fighting--with Dave; if Dave ever hurts him Karkat will probably deserve it.

“I don’t have anything planned,” Karkat says. Should he? Is Dave expecting something more? “Do you have something you want to do?”

\- 

Dave hums thoughtfully as he nuzzles his nose into Karkat’s hair.

“I don’t really care what we do, as long as I’m with you.” he says softly.

And his own words make him reel a little bit, because...wow, that’s probably the corniest thing he’s ever said. But it’s also the most true. He and Karkat could be doing their fucking taxes together and Dave would still be having a good time.

“I’m fine just going back to the apartment after this, so if you don’t have anything else you’d like to do...” Dave leans over and nibbles on the shell of Karkat’s ear, “then I can always just do you.”

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what they’d talked about in the park. And Karkat had told him to stop talking then or they’d miss the movie, but...

Well, they’re at the movie now, and Dave still wants to tell Karkat about all the things he wants to do...Karkat did just ask him, after all.

“Can’t stop thinking about it, baby,” Dave says in a whisper, “Wanna take you home and fuck you good and senseless into the bed, get you moaning and calling out my name all pretty, looking fuckin’ gorgeous underneath me as you take my cock so perfectly. Even if we both cum dry, I don’t care. Just want to be inside you so fuckin’ bad, baby...”

-

Karkat takes in a sharp breath, all those thoughts from earlier surging to the surface.

“You said you were gonna behave,” he complains, shivering from the feel of Dave’s voice in his ear. Dave is so goddamn perfect, and Karkat doesn’t know if he can wait until the movie is over, until they’ve driven back ~~home~~ to Dave’s apartment and gotten inside.

His idea from before, of pinning Dave to the ground and fucking him right there on the grass, returns to him. They’re less out in the open, now. People could walk by and see them if they peered into the window, but that seems like a them problem.

He turns his head to kiss Dave nice and filthy, his hand working at the inside of Dave’s thigh, moving closer and closer to his crotch.

“You have such a pretty dick, baby,” he says, voice low. “Don’t know if I can wait. You gonna let me suck you off?”

His hand plays teasingly with Dave’s zipper as he waits for an answer.

-

Karkat really shouldn’t enable Dave’s behaviour like this, but he’s doing it anyway, like the good boyfriend he is.

Karkat wants to _suck Dave’s dick in the back of his car_. Dave is in fucking heaven right now.

“Baby,” Dave says, trying to feign surprise but instead his voice comes out breathless and extremely turned-on, “I’d be a fuckin’ idiot if I didn’t let you wrap that sexy mouth of yours around me.”

He bites at Karkat’s plump bottom lip as though for emphasis. Dave pulls back, and bucks his hips up into Karkat’s hand, encouraging him on.

His dick was going to fucking fall off from overuse by the end of the night, but Dave could not care less.

-

Oh fuck yes.

Karkat’s never really done anything in public before, with the exception of a few ultimately disappointing hookups in nightclub bathrooms. He never really considered it as something he’d be into, but maybe it’s just because it’s Dave. Dave nipping at his lip, thrusting his hip up into Karkat’s hand, saying those beautiful breathless words. Dave makes Karkat do things he never would have considered otherwise.

Like sucking his boyfriends dick in the middle of a drive in movie.

Karkat wastes no time in unbuttoning and unzipping Dave’s pants, reaching into his boxers to pull his cock out. He’s still soft, but that’s fine, Karkat will fix that.

He scoots back and leans down to lap at Dave’s dick, wrapping a hand around the base and kissing the tip before taking it in his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, enjoying the feeling of it slowly hardening on his tongue. Karkat loves the taste of him, loves the smell and the noises Dave makes above him.

He finds Dave’s hand with his own once more and gives it a squeeze, and starts up a slow rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, curling his tongue around Dave’s length.

-

If Dave hadn’t already came three fucking times since this morning, maybe his dick would be a little quicker on the uptake and would have been hard the instant Karkat told him he had a pretty dick.

But it doesn’t take it much longer to get the message once Karkat starts getting to work, and soon enough Dave is fully hard with Karkat bobbing up and down, taking him all the way to the back of his throat every time.

Dave’s head falls back on the headrest with a groan as his eyes slip shut. He squeezes Karkat’s hand tightly and—another tally—wishes his arm wasn’t in a cast so he could bury his other hand into Karkat’s lovely hair.

He doesn’t even want to shove Karkat down onto his cock (even though he was certainly into it earlier; even more so because Karkat was also very into it) he just wants to run his fingers through his soft, thick hair.

“K-Karkat...” Dave sighs, a little moan pulled out of him as Karkat’s tongue swirls around the head of his cock.

Fuck. Holy fuck. Karkat was his boyfriend now. Dave could get these mind-blowing blowjobs whenever he—

Okay, not whenever he wanted. If Karkat wasn’t feeling it one day that’d be cool. If he had a bad day or something Dave could just blow him instead, until he felt better.

Dave squeezes Karkat’s hand tight and gasps as the head of his dick hits the tight ring of muscle in Karkat’s throat once more. “Ff-fuck, baby, feels so good—“

-

Karkat is starting to wonder if he has some sort of voice kink, because the way Dave whimpers when he takes his boyfriend’s dick all the way to the base really fucking does something for him. He can feel his own dick taking interest and palms himself through his pants as he pulls off to kiss Dave’s tip. 

He presses kisses down the underside of Dave’s cock, then licks a thick stripe back up. He laves the flat of his tongue over the head before taking it back in his mouth and sucking as he moves down. When he takes Dave into his throat he lets out a moan.

He wishes he could look up and see Dave’s face as he does this, wishes Dave had both hands so he could use his other to stroke Karkat's hair. He can’t believe he can do this whenever he wants, that he doesn’t have to hoard Dave’s lovely sounds in his mind to pull out when he’s lonely and worn-down, because Dave is his _boyfriend_ , and this is more than just a one-off thing.

Karkat desperately wants to tell Dave that he loves him. Wants Dave to know that he’d do anything for him, that all Dave needs to do is ask and Karkat will give him anything he wants. But the logical part of his brain says _it’s too soon, slow down, don’t scare him away_ , so he focuses his attention on giving Dave the best blowjob he’s ever received, hoping the meaning comes across anyway.

-

Karkat’s back windows are tinted, but Dave feels like the light from the movie screen is putting him on full display for anyone who bothers to look inside the car.

And yet the idea of that is more thrilling than terrifying. Even if they get caught and kicked out, Dave wouldn’t care. They’d just go home and take care of business there, after all.

But it’s the what if that excites him, that makes him moan even louder, that makes his back arch against the seat, that drips searing heat down into his belly as his arousal grows.

It had been a few hours since he came—or rather, came properly. His third time nothing even came out, it was just all the sensation without any cum. Would his fourth be the same, or had his body had time to recover and catch up? What if this does him in for the night, and he can’t even get it up after this? He wants to fuck Karkat so badly...

They do have another three days until Karkat’s back to work. And even with that, they’re dating now. Karkat wants to be his boyfriend—which means Dave can see Karkat whenever he wants, and has all the time in the world to give Karkat the fuck he deserves.

But Dave is impatient, he’s greedy. He doesn’t want to wait, not even until tomorrow morning. He wants Karkat and he wants him now.

Dave lurches and gasps. He’s so overstimulated by this point and his body wants to get away from the touch and yet lean into it all at the same time, and the contradiction drives him wild.

“K-Kaaarkat, baby—f-fuck, oh christ—“ Dave’s sounds drown out the sound of the movie playing through the car radio.

He clutches onto Karkat’s hand in a vice grip as he weakly bucks his hips upward. “B-bab _yyy_ , gon—gonna—gonna cum, baby, gonna cuu— _uuunnmm_ —“

-

Dave is moaning louder than Karkat’s heard him before, and if someone walked by they’d _definitely_ hear him and know exactly what’s going on. It makes Karkat’s cheeks flush in embarrassment, but he keeps going, letting Dave thrust weakly into his mouth as he squeezes his hand tight.

Karkat’s already thinking of ways to use this. If Dave likes getting off where there’s a chance of getting caught Karkat will support that 100%. There are plenty of secluded areas Karkat can think to take him, where he can pull Dave against his chest and slip a hand down his pants, or get on his knees to suck him off, or even press him up against a wall and fuck him until he splatters the bricks with his cum.

God, would Dave let Karkat fuck him up against a window? Dave lives pretty high up, but his apartment faces the street. If anyone looked up they’d be able to see him, chest pressed against the glass, face blissed out as Karkat took him from behind.

These thoughts urge Karkat on faster, fucking Dave’s cock into his throat on every pass down. He sinks low and swallows, moans, lets Dave’s orgasm wrack his body as he drinks down what little his dick has left to give.

When Dave’s twitching and whining from overstimulation Karkat pulls back with a wet _pop_ and kisses along his jaw, letting him calm down while he grinds his own hand into his crotch.

-

Karkat comes up and kisses along Dave’s jaw as Dave’s entire body is wracked with uncontrollable shivers, his softening cock weakly pulsing as he comes down from the high.

“You’re way too good at that,” Dave says through raspy pants, “I’m’a have to step up my dick-suckin’ game.”

Dave turns his head to catch Karkat’s lips in a kiss, groaning softly as he tastes himself on Karkat’s tongue. He reaches down to palm Karkat through his pants, and opens his eyes when he feels that Karkat’s already got his hand down there and grinding into it.

“Oh, _darlin’_ , lemme help you,” Dave breathes against their lips, gently pulling Karkat’s hand away. “I got you, baby, hang on...”

He unbuttons Karkat’s jeans and pulls down the zipper, pushing his pants and boxers aside and pulling out Karkat’s hard cock. Dave squeezes the head, swiping up a wet bead of precum with his thumb. He buries his face into Karkat’s neck, pressing a hot, wet kiss to the marked-up skin as he starts to pump Karkat’s cock.

“Already all wet for me, just from sucking my cock?” Dave says huskily, “That’s real fuckin’ sexy, baby. You like it that much, huh? You like having your mouth full of my hard cock, drinking me down as I spill down your throat? Like it when I fuck myself into your mouth?”

Dave doesn’t usually take on the commanding role in these situations. He’s slim and pretty and that attracted a lot of meatheads who liked to fill him up and fuck him rough and fast. He never got much of a chance to let out this side of him—he likes switching things up, to get to be the one in the driver’s seat from time to time...

And Karkat might actually let him. Dave’s dominating dirty talk is pretty fucking rusty, but hopefully it can do the trick. Karkat almost took over the reigns there for a hot minute, sucking his dick as good as he did. But now it’s Dave’s turn, and he’s snatching those reigns out of Karkat’s hands and taking over.


	9. Chapter 9

Karkat moans as Dave wraps a hand around his aching dick, thumbing the head and talking low into Karkat’s ear. Dave is so fucking _sexy_ , what the fuck, how can he say shit like this without being awkward as all hell? 

“Mm-hmm,” Karkat agrees with a whimper, tossing his head back against the seat, giving Dave full access to his neck. “L-like the sounds you make, too.”

Fuck, god, it feels so good to let himself lean back and be taken care of like this. Karkat rarely gets the chance to be anything other than the one in control. People look at him and just assume. He doesn’t mind it; likes it a lot, actually, but fuck if it isn’t nice to be able to close his eyes and let Dave stroke him slowly, giving him only what he wants to. 

-

“Yeah?” Dave purrs, twisting around so now Karkat’s the one with his back pressed into the seat as Dave straddles one of his legs.

He leans forward so he can press more kisses up Karkat’s neck, which he’s leaving out in the open for Dave to do with as he pleases. Dave maintains a slow but deep pumping rhythm on Karkat’s cock as he kisses up Karkat’s neck and then nibbles on his ear.

“Like hearing my voice, baby?” Dave says, low in Karkat’s ear, putting on his most deep and sultry tones, “Like it when I say all this nasty shit right in your ear, while I pump your thick cock? Bet you’d like it even better if I was saying all sorts of sweet nothings while I fucked you nice and slow, huh? What do you think would make you cum first, baby? My cock, or my voice?”

Dave is fucking delirious with arousal, drunk on the power it gives him to watch Karkat whimper under his touch. Karkat’s always so big and strong, always wears such a stern expression...the feeling Dave gets from seeing all of that melt away into softness and submission under his hands is fucking indescribable.

All he knows is that he’s already addicted.

-

“F-fuuuuck,” Karkat groans, trembling under Dave’s ministrations, his voice hot and velvety in his ears. “ _Love_ your voice, b-babyy. Never stop t-aah-lking to me, fuck.”

He squirms, wanting more but not wanting to demand it, keeping his hips planted in his seat. He bites his lip. He’s always fucking loud when it comes to sex, but now isn’t the time, not when people could discover what’s happening. It seemed kind of hot, when he had Dave’s dick in his mouth, but the thought of someone finding him with his cock out just makes him feel ashamed.

He’s not about to tell Dave to stop, though, not when he’s looking at Karkat with dark, hungry eyes.

“M-more, please,” he finally breaks. “C’mon, baby, p-please.”

-

Dave takes his hand off Karkat’s dick to bring his hand up to Karkat’s face, and rub his thumb along Karkat’s bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth.

“Don’t quiet yourself, sweetheart, I wanna hear you,” Dave says softly, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll give you more, I got you...”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to Karkat’s lips as he runs his hand down Karkat’s chest and then wraps his hand back around Karkat’s cock.

“Nobody’s lookin’, baby, they’re all watching the movie,” Dave says, rubbing his thumb along Karkat’s slit while he talks, “Or they’re all too busy gettin’ frisky with their own significant others to pay us any mind.”

Dave kisses Karkat’s cheek. “So be loud, baby. You said you love the noises I make, well, it goes both ways. But if you’re shy that’s alright too, sugar. You can just cling to me nice and tight while I milk your cock, and I’ll keep you quiet with my mouth. I’ll eat your noises right up.”

Dave starts to pump his hand more earnestly, finally giving Karkat the more he craves while Dave peppers Karkat’s face all over with kisses.

“That better, baby? That what you wanted? Feel good, having me jerk your big cock until you cum?” Dave keeps murmuring all kinds of sweet dirty talk into Karkat’s ear as he keeps up the relentless pace, “This what you wished for when you were jerking yourself off in my bathroom? When you pumped your cock nice and hard and fast, did you wish it was me? Down on my knees pumping your cock, my mouth hanging open, ready to take your load? When you came, did you wish it was all over my face?”

-

Karkat can’t hold back his moans after Dave pulls his lip from between his teeth, no matter how hard he tries. Dave likes his noises, too? It’s always been embarrassing as shit, that Karkat can’t keep quiet. Dave wants to hear him, though, so Karkat fights back his initial urge to choke down his loud reactions.

Dave stops teasing him with his slow, easy pace, picking it up so quickly it’s overwhelming. Karkat’s hand clenches and unclenches in Dave’s shirt, mouth falling open as he pants.

“Y-yesss,” Karkat admits, hissing it out between his teeth. “Fuck, Dave. Wanted it to be y-yo _uuu._ ”

His eyes squeeze shut as Dave twists his wrist at the top, hips hips jolting up. He bites his lip out of habit but forces himself to let it go. Dave wants to hear him.

“Close, baby,” he gasps out, feeling it build. Is he really about to cum for the fourth time today? Can his body even handle that? He feels like he’s been milked dry already. “Please, Dave, h-aah, baby, please.”

He’s not sure what he’s asking for. More? Less? He grabs Dave’s neck and pulls him in to press their mouths together. It’s less a kiss than it is Karkat panting and moaning desperately into Dave’s mouth, but god he needs this closeness, needs to feel Dave against him and around him.

-

Karkat says that he’s close, is begging Dave please, and Dave isn’t sure what it is that Karkat’s begging for but whatever it is, Dave wants to give it to him and more.

Karkat pulls him in for a kiss and Dave groans against their mouths and Karkat kisses him with his mouth hung open, moaning and breathing ragged. Dave presses little kisses to the corner of Karkat’s mouth, his cheeks, his nose.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you...” Dave assures him, trailing kisses down Karkat’s jaw as he slides off of Karkat’s leg.

Dave lowers himself down until his mouth is hovering just above the tip of Karkat’s cock, enough that Karkat can feel the warmth of his breath.

“Go ahead and cum for me, baby, I’ll take whatever you give me,” Dave promises.

And then he sinks himself down onto Karkat’s cock in one quick motion, fighting back his reflex to gag as he shoves Karkat’s cock all the way to the back of his throat, his eyes squeezed shut.

-

Fuck, _fuck_ , the slick slide of Dave’s mouth on his dick gets him close, so goddamn close to the edge, but it’s the pressure that comes with Dave taking him in his throat that has Karkat falling, spilling over while moaning Dave’s name, his back arching and hips jerking up, desperate for _more, more, more_.

Karkat isn’t even sure if he came entirely dry, but the second it’s over he’s pulling Dave up off his dick and all the way into his lap so he can kiss him properly, breathless and needy.

“ _God_ , baby,” he whispers when they break apart. He rests their foreheads together and just breathes. “So good to me.”

He… probably just ruined his chance to get fucked tonight. _Five_ times in a day is definitely fucking pushing it, he thinks, but fuck if he doesn’t want to try. He wants to know what Dave would feel like, filling him up. 

There’s always tomorrow, though. Karkat’s got at least three more days with Dave, before he’s supposed to go back to his own apartment. Although…

Dave’s roommate will be gone for another week after that. There’s no goddamn way Karkat will be able to take another week off of work no matter how many coworkers agree to cover for him, but maybe he could stick around for that extra week anyway, if he makes it worth Dave’s while.

-

Karkat pulls Dave up into his lap and Dave hums happily into the kiss, clutching at Karkat’s shoulder as their mouths move together.

“Just trying to make you feel as good as you make me feel, baby.” Dave says fondly, bumping their noses together.

They stay like that for a while longer until Dave decides it probably time to put his dick back in his pants. He shuffles out of Karkat’s lap and hikes up his boxers and pants, then leans against Karkat’s shoulder and looks back up at the screen.

Man, this George guy couldn’t seem to catch a break, huh? Obviously Dave had been a little distracted, but the plot was easy enough to piece together. He didn’t want to be stuck working at the family business but then his father died and his younger brother went to college and got married.

This Mary girl is clearly nuts about him but he’s being a right chode about the whole thing, and now they’re arguing and he’s storming out of her house.

“What’s he gotta go and see the world for?” Dave says, “That chick is clearly gaga for him, and he just wants to go to fuckin’ Fiji or whatever the hell. I get he’s feeling a little bit cheated but why doesn’t he just marry the girl and go to travel the world with her? It’s better than going alone.”

Some guy calls Mary on the phone and asks to speak to George, they listen on the receiver together and wow, oh man, just kiss already. The romantic tension is insane. George is clearly smelling Mary’s hair. Dave can dig it. He does it to Karkat all the time, nice to know he isn’t the only weirdo out there who’s gotta thing for pheromones.

“If these two don’t kiss in the next five seconds let’s go the fuck home.” Dave says.

And then they’re looking at each other and George grabs Mary’s shoulders and shakes her and tells her he never wants to get married to anyone but then two seconds later he’s kissing her all over. Yep. Saw that one coming.

“Oh, thank fucking Christ,” Dave says, “That took them even longer than it did for us.”

-

Dave shuffles out of his lap and tucks his dick back inside and Karkat pouts. He scoots over and places his head on Dave’s shoulder as Dave gets back into the movie. Dave _likes_ that he’s clingy, for some reason, he reminds himself. He won’t push Karkat off.

Karkat closes his eyes. This movie is definitely going on his watch later list, but there’s no way he’ll be able to pay attention to it with his boyfriend being sweet and warm next to him. Maybe when the shiny newness of the relationship wears off, Karkat will be able to divert his attention. But for now it’s just _Dave, Dave, Dave_.

“It didn’t take us that long,” he says. “Three or four days? Longest of my life, but not that long.”

Fuck, that’s such a short period of time. Is Karkat crazy? Has he lost his mind and common sense? Maybe he should actually sit down and message his friends, get outside opinions on this.

The idea of telling them that Dave’s his soulmate but he doesn’t know if it’s a complete bond stings, however. As much as he loves his friends, not a single one of them gives good relationship advice. That’s his own area of expertise. He tries to think of it from an outside perspective, what he’d tell one of his friends.

_If he wants to be with you regardless of what destiny decides then what the fuck are you bitching about?_

He nuzzles into Dave’s shoulder.

“How’s your head?” he asks, remembering earlier. Fuck, no strenuous activity. Karkat keeps fucking forgetting.

His heart sinks as he realizes that it probably means Dave shouldn’t be fucking him senseless any time soon. Maybe if he lays back and Karkat rides him? He’ll need to google if you can have sex with a concussion. 

-

“It’s alright,” Dave says. He turns and presses a kiss to the top of Karkat’s head. “So I’m your slowest burn, huh? I guess you’re technically mine, too...well, actually, you’re my only burn. I’ve never dated anyone before.”

Dave shuffles his arm so he can wrap it around Karkat’s shoulder, then he rests his cheek on Karkat’s head. “I always just kept things pretty casual, basically just one-time things or like, friends with benefits that fizzled out over time. Usually once their soulmate came along. What about you?”

It was normal to ask your boyfriend about his past relationships, right? Dave has no idea, considering this is his first boyfriend. Maybe it would be a good idea to get an insight into what Karkat likes and doesn’t like from his partners.

Or he’s being super invasive and gross right now and should drop it.

Dave just strokes his hand up and down Karkat’s shoulder to work off the sudden nervous energy he feels.

-

Oh, it’s time for the past relationships talk. Karkat chews at his lip as he thinks. Normally he’d blow this question off, pretend that he’s a functioning person who can handle relationships, but he wants to be honest with Dave. He lets out a sigh.

“I’ve tried random hook-ups once or twice,” he says. “They didn’t really do anything for me. I’m kind of a serial monogamist, I guess. I’ve only ever really had serious relationships.”

He searches for Dave’s hand and slips their fingers together. “They started out fine but all of them ended terribly. We’d fight all the time, usually over stupid shit I did. I’ve had a few dishes thrown at my head.”

He doesn’t mention the time he got punched in the face out of nowhere; his friends had taken care of that real fucking quick, once they found out.

Karkat shrugs, trying to seem casual.

“A couple ended because they found their soulmate,” he admits. “But I think they would have ended soon enough, anyway.”

Dave’s never dated. That’s okay, Karkat can show him the ropes. Make it special for him.

-

“Wait, what the fuck?” Dave says, voice suddenly full of concern. And maybe a little bit of anger, which is rare for him, and he’s not sure why it manifests now, so he tries to push it down.

Dave sits forward a little, which makes Karkat take his head off Dave’s shoulder to look at him curiously. Dave looks back at him with a deeply furrowed brow, his lips pulled into a frown.

“You’ve had fucking dishes thrown at you, on multiple occasions, and you think you were the one causing the problem in the relationship?” Dave asks incredulously.

What the fuck? Bro was an asshole who beat the holy hell out of Dave on a daily basis, but even he never threw a dish at Dave’s head.

...Maybe a shuriken or two, but—that was besides the point.

The point was, who the fuck would treat someone like Karkat like that? Karkat was the last person on the planet Dave could think of who would deserve to be treated like that. Hell, nobody deserved that. But especially not Karkat.

“If they were that fucked in the head that they would try and hurt you, then you weren’t the problem, they were,” Dave says sternly.

He’s not sure why he’s getting so angry about all this. It’s not like Karkat has any of these people in his life anymore. Or at least Dave hopes not. And if Karkat is still in contact with any of them, well...they just better hope Dave never runs into them.

-

Oh fuck, now he’s fucking upset Dave.

He doesn’t think he’s seen Dave angry yet. And this… isn’t anger, necessarily. Concern? Upset on Karkat’s behalf?

“They weren’t trying to hurt me,” Karkat says, frowning. He’s explaining this all wrong. “It wasn’t _at_ me it was just… near me, I guess. The wall behind me, near my head. I pissed them off one time too many.”

He hunches his shoulders, falling back against the seat. Their date was going really fucking well and he had to go and ruin it by opening his fucking mouth. 

This doesn’t have to be a big deal. Karkat’s a big guy, he can take having some shit thrown at him, or having someone half his size slap or punch ineffectually at him. It hurts emotionally, knowing he’s angered someone to the point of violence, but it doesn’t really hurt physically beyond the initial stinging. And he’d rather have someone yell and scream at him than keep that shit inside and let it stew. Communication is important in relationships.

-

Karkat’s words do little to appease Dave. If anything, they just piss Dave off even more.

“Bullshit they weren’t trying to hurt you, people don’t do that shit unless they fucking intend you bodily harm. The fact they missed doesn’t mean they didn’t chuck that plate or whatever the fuck at you with the intention to fucking hit you with it.”

Dave’s voice is laced with venom. His stomach is churning just from the thought of someone doing that to Karkat.

“You think when my Bro threw shuriken at my head he meant to hit the wall behind me? Of fucking course not, he wanted to see if I would dodge it. You think when he threw me down a flight of stairs he expected me to land on my feet like a fucking cat? No, he pushed me down a flight of stairs because he wanted to push me down a flight of stairs and _watch me fall_.”

It took Dave a long time to grapple with himself and convince himself that the things his brother did to him weren’t his fault. His Bro hated him for some goddamn reason Dave would never be able to explain. For a long time his explanation was that he must have done something to set him off. He broke one of the rules and needed to be corrected.

There were times he still believed that.

But no, fuck that. Bro was just a fucking unstable asshole who shouldn’t have been left in charge of a child. The people who dated Karkat and treated him like shit were fucking assholes who made Karkat believe their shit behaviour was Karkat’s doing. When they were probably just shit people to begin with. Just like Bro.

“The things those cocksuckers did to you isn’t your fucking fault, Karkat, and fuck them for making you even think that for a goddamn second.”

Dave is still holding Karkat’s hand, so he gives it a tight squeeze as he says the words and stares into Karkat’s eyes. He feels more fucking livid then he’s ever felt in his fucking life, and it’s towards people he doesn’t even know and will likely never even meet.

If they’re lucky.

-

Karkat’s reminded Dave of his abusive upbringing; no wonder he’s acting like this. 

He wants to believe what Dave is saying, that it’s not his fault, that he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. But there’s a fucking pattern, there, of people treating him like shit, and the only nonvariable is Karkat himself. Which means that there’s just something about him that makes people act that way.

Dave is different; he got the short end of the stick, ended up with a shitty brother who did terrible things. Shurikens? What the actual goddamn fuck. Karkat feels a strange mixture of rage on Dave’s behalf and defensiveness on his own.

“It’s not the same,” Karkat frowns. Dave’s eyes are steely, and Karkat has a feeling this is a losing battle. “You were a _kid_ , Dave. No one deserves to be fucking treated like that, especially not by the person who’s supposed to be protecting them.”

He blows a lock of hair out of his eyes. Maybe he should get a haircut soon.

“I shouldn’t have fucking said anything,” he says, slouching. They’re still holding hands, which means Dave probably isn’t _too_ mad at him. “I’m always fucking pushing people to their limits. Sometimes that shit just goes too far.”

-

Dave feels ready to rip his damn hair out. He wishes he didn’t have this cast on (mark the tally) so that he could gesticulate as wildly as he wanted to with it while still being able to hold Karkat’s hand. And damn if he was about to let go anytime soon.

“It is the fucking same! You literally just contradicted yourself by saying nobody deserves to be treated like that, you fucking buffoon. You are fucking included in that consensus, despite whatever those psychotic dipshits made you feel.”

Dave lets out a loud sigh. It was exhausting, being angry. He doesn’t understand how people can keep it up for so long. He slumps down, resting his head on Karkat’s shoulder.

“Just because what happened to me was with a family member and what happened to you was with people you dated doesn’t make what happened to either of us any different, or any less fucked up.” Dave mutters into Karkat’s shirt.

“You better hope we never run into any of your exes. I may not have a very fuckin’ threatening silhouette but I know how to make someone shit out their teeth if I’m feelin’ motivated enough. And you bet your ass hurting my boyfriend is more than enough motivation.”

Dave presses a kiss to Karkat’s shoulder, then plops his cheek down against it with a grated sigh. He still feels agitated, but the rage is cooling off.

“Only time I’m ever gonna treat you roughly is in the bedroom, and even then it’ll only be after getting a big old green light from you to do so.” Dave grumbles.

-

Karkat sighs, turning his head to press a kiss to Dave’s hair. He doesn’t want to keep arguing, especially since he doesn’t have the words to explain that what he and Dave went through are different. Dave was _abused_ and Karkat… just, gets under people’s skin, and they have a natural reaction to that.

“Shouldn’t have gotten you all worked up,” Karkat mumbles. “Can’t be good for your head.”

He doesn’t say that Dave could treat him as rough as he wants, anytime, and Karkat wouldn’t mind. He keeps it to himself. He doesn’t think Dave would take that very well.

It feels nice, though, having Dave being protective over him. His friends are like that, too, when it comes to serious shit.

-

“Who gives a fuck about my fucking head,” Dave snaps out.

Then he instantly regrets it.

Fuck, he’s still worked up, isn’t he? He’s really not used to being angry, he has no idea how to control it.

He doesn’t want to be angry, and especially not on their date. He thought if he just cuddled up to Karkat it would help to ease these negative feelings coiling through him. And it did, a tiny bit. But clearly not enough, if he’s lashing out like a complete asshole over nothing.

Dave feels awful. He buries his face deeper into Karkat’s neck, like if he nuzzled in deep enough he could hide away.

“...Sorry,” he mumbles.

-

Karkat lets go of Dave’s hand, but only so he can wrap his arm around Dave’s shoulder and tug him closer, rubbing soothing circles into his skin, above the cast.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly. It doesn’t feel great, having Dave snap at him, but if this is the extent of his anger then maybe things between them might actually work out. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

He nuzzles into Dave’s hair, appreciating the smell of his own conditioner that lingers there.

“This is kind of heavy for first date talk,” Karkat notes, but he can’t think of anything to change the subject to. 

-

Dave sighs sharply. “Yeah, no.”

He sits up so he can look Karkat in the eyes again. Dave’s face is stony, his eyes sad but warm as he looks at Karkat. Sincere.

“I do have to be sorry, actually.” Dave mutters, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m sorry, Karkat.”

He leans down and presses a quick kiss to Karkat’s forehead, then slumps back down on Karkat’s shoulder again, closing his eyes.

“Sorry to have made you bring up that shit. When I asked about your past relationships I didn’t expect to you to be so fuckin’...blasé about the fact you were in _abusive_ ones,” Dave mumbles. “I just...want you to know that what happened to you wasn’t okay. It took me a long ass time to accept that about my own shit. Hell, I’m still figuring it out. So it’s not like I’m asking you to just have a eureka moment right here in the car, but...it’s just...”

Dave sighs again. He’s sighing a lot.

“I just need you to know that I will never treat you like that. And I’d make that promise even if I wasn’t your soulmate.” Dave says, “Just because they weren’t destined to be with you doesn’t excuse the fact that what they did to you was gross and abusive as fuck.”

Dave trails off, losing steam again, and just goes quiet and nuzzles into Karkat’s neck.

-

Dave keeps saying _abuse_ and it takes everything Karkat has not to correct him. He feels… skeezy and manipulative, letting Dave think he was abused when it wasn’t like that, but he desperately wants things to go back to how they were before Karkat fucked up their date. 

“Okay,” Karkat says, because what else is there? He hums softly as Dave’s nose tickles across his neck. 

“I don’t think you’d do something like that. Can’t imagine you acting like that, even when I piss you off.” And he _will_ piss Dave off, eventually. Pissing people off is in Karkat’s blood. “You’re… really fucking sweet, Dave. I’ve never dated anyone like you before.”

Dave is soft where his exes were sharp. He’s kind, he wouldn’t find Karkat’s weak spots and jab at them. He laughs at nerdy shit and makes Karkat coffee in the morning and falls asleep on his chest like a fucking kitten. 

“I really lo-like you,” he winces at himself, hoping Dave doesn’t notice his slip up.

-

Karkat’s never dated anyone who treated him right before, and the thought makes Dave’s blood curdle. But it also fills him with an overwhelming sense of determination.

Nobody else treated Karkat the way he deserved. So Dave would be the first.

Dave was Karkat’s soulmate. If he didn’t make Karkat happy, then he was a fucking failure.

Dave’s eyes blink open as Karkat stumbles over his words.

Did Karkat almost...?

It’s too soon to say it, right? That’s what the logical part of Dave’s brain wants to think. Then again, Dave isn’t exactly sure if that’s just logic or fear talking.

He’s already pretty certain that, words or no words, Dave fell in love with Karkat. It’s just the whole ‘admitting it out loud’ part he struggles with.

But Karkat did already say that this was the longest it’s taken for him to get into a relationship with someone. So did that still mean it was too soon?

If anything, the only thing stopping Dave from saying it now is simply because he just snapped at Karkat two seconds ago. And he doesn’t want to throw out the word ‘love’ to soften the blow of that. It would cheapen it, to do it now.

So he’ll wait.

He doesn’t know when the right moment will be, but...he’ll just have to go with his gut.

“I really like you, too,” Dave says, feigning ignorance to Karkat’s slip. “I don’t know if you could do anything that would piss me off. That just now was...the maddest I’ve ever been, to be honest. And it was on your behalf, instead of over anything you did. So I mean, yeah...not like I exactly want to go into scenarios of potential lover’s quarrels on the first date, but—well, I’m sure the make up sex would be pretty baller.”

-

Dave didn’t notice, thank god, and Karkat relaxes a bit. He’ll need to be more careful; he doesn’t want to scare Dave off. All of this seems to be happening so damn fast, and Dave’s never dated anyone before. 

He laughs at Dave’s comment about makeup sex and presses a loud kiss to Dave’s hair.

“We really are opposites,” Karkat says. “I get pissed off at every little thing. I’m surprised I don’t have fucking stomach ulcers at this point.”

It’s not his fault the world is fucking _annoying_. 

-

“Opposites attract, babe,” Dave says, smiling goofily at the kiss to his hair, “I told ya, we balance each other out. Summer birthday, winter birthday. You fly off the handle at everything and I take things in stride. Unless it’s about you, and then I will do a fuckin’ triple axle off of that fucking handle.”

Dave presses a kiss to Karkat’s neck. This was more like it, back to their regular scheduled date talk, none of that heavy shit.

It could wait for later. Tragic backstories didn’t belong on first dates.

-

All the remaining tension drains out of him at Dave’s silliness returning. He’s not mad at him, everything is fine. They can go back to their cute date and ignore everything else.

Karkat runs his hand up Dave’s neck to tug at his ear. Dave keeps touching his neck; it’s only fair. 

“Are you this protective over your friends, too, or am I special?” Karkat asks, half teasing.

-

Dave clutches a little tighter at Karkat’s shirt as Karkat tugs on his ear, holding back a small gasp.

“It’s like I said, I’ve never gotten that mad before, over anything,” Dave says.

He kisses Karkat softly on the neck. If Karkat was going for the ears, then he was going for the Achilles heel, too, fuck him.

“So I’d definitely say that makes you special,” he finishes in a whisper.

-

It’s just mindless flirting, but Karkat likes the thought of being special to Dave. It makes him shiver almost as much as Dave kissing lightly at his neck.

“Lucky me,” he says fondly, letting his eyes drift shut. He doesn’t know how much of the movie is left, but he’s suddenly feeling worn out and exhausted. Fighting does that to him, even though he’s not sure if what he and Dave just did is considered _fighting_. 

There was no yelling, no throwing things. No fists thrown, no slapping or tears. Pretty tame, as far as fights go. If it was a fight. It leaves him feeling fatigued regardless. He wants to curl up with a book and a cup of coffee until he feels ready to be a person again.

-

They actually wind up watching the rest of the movie in silence, just cuddled up together in the backseat.

Maybe that’s pretty uncharacteristic of both of them, but Dave is feeling pretty worn out after getting so angry out of the blue. So now all he wants to do is just cuddle up with Karkat and enjoy being close to him without having to say a word.

They both came _four_ fucking times since this morning, had a bunch of carbs for dinner, and just got into a...was it a fight? Dave isn’t really sure. He got angry, but it wasn’t at Karkat. He just got upset hearing about what Karkat had been through, and seeing the way it affected Karkat’s rationality.

Yeah, Dave kinda snapped out of frustration, but he instantly felt bad and apologized for it. Karkat seems a little subdued right now, but then again so does Dave. Maybe they’ll both just go back to the apartment and crash for the night, and Dave can make it up to Karkat in the morning. Maybe wake him up with a blow job or something.

When the movie ends, cars are quickly making their way out of the drive-in, trying to beat the line to get out. As soon as George and his family start to sing Auld Lang Syne, headlights start to flicker on and people are pulling away. Dave sits up and stretches with a groan as his back cracks. He opens up the door and slips out, getting back into the front seat.

Karkat is close to follow, pulling on his seatbelt. Now that the movie is over, Dave switches the radio back to aux mode and puts on the chill music again. They drive back to the apartment in silence, though Dave doesn’t feel like it’s an entirely awkward silence. More a necessary silence. Maybe the two of them just needed to shut the fuck up for two seconds and just be in the other’s presence without the need to fill the space with noise.

They get back to the apartment, and as Dave throws down his keys he finally addresses Karkat.

“So, what do you feel like?” he asks, stepping over to Karkat.

He wraps an arm around Karkat’s shoulders, and they just stand there in the middle of the room, slightly swaying in place.

“You want some alone time? We’ve been spending a lot of time together, so if you wanna just have some Karkat Time, I can dig it. Or we can get ready for bed, and I can play with your hair so you can try and get some sleep? What do you need from me, baby?”

-

Despite how verbose he is, Karkat appreciates the silence. He’s never had anyone stick around after fighting ( _fighting_?), normally both parties are too hot headed to stay in each other’s presence without snapping. But Dave curls up against him and they just… watch the rest of the movie. Which is actually really fucking cute.

When they get home, Dave throws his arm around Karkat’s shoulder in a strange sort of hug, except they sway in place as Dave asks what Karkat needs. Karkat rests a hand on his waist and bumps their foreheads together lightly. Is Dave offering to give Karkat space because he thinks Karkat needs it, or does _Dave_ need it? Karkat thrives on social contact, but Dave seems more introverted. Most people are.

“I’m fine, baby,” Karkat says. “I don’t need anything. It’s okay if you need space, though.”

He could read, or… goddammit. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“I should probably talk to my friends,” he says, scowling. “I’ve been ignoring them since yesterday when they kept asking if we were on a date in the bookstore. Nosy assholes.”

He loves his friends but ever since Karkat dated one too many douchebags they insist on vetting the people he dates. Not that it helps, really, but they mean well. Probably.

-

Dave gives a little shrug. “Nah, I’m good. I’m down to just chill out for a bit until we’re ready to crash, though. I’m not ready for bed just yet, but, I think I at least oughta rest my eyes for a bit.”

Dave leans up and presses a chaste kiss to Karkat’s lips. “Talk to your friends, baby. You gotta admit our situation is pretty unorthodox. I know I was kind of drawn to your front bumper by fate and whatever, but still.”

Dave pulls away and takes Karkat’s wrist, pulling them over to the couch. He pushes Karkat down into his usual spot, then Dave flops down onto the couch and reclines on the opposite armrest, bringing up his legs to rest them in Karkat’s lap.

“Make sure you tell them I made you cum five times today,” Dave says as he pulls off his shades and sets them off on the table before leaning back down and closing his eyes. “That oughta make a good first impression.”

-

Karkat raises his eyebrows. 

“Only four by my count,” he says. “Unless you have something up your sleeve?”

Karkat doesn’t know if he can physically get hard again, whether he wants to or not. For Dave, though, he’d try.

He digs his phone out of his pocket and winces at all the fucking messages. He dismisses them all and prepares his message.

CG: OKAY ASSHOLES, LISTEN UP. I DID NOT LIE TO YOU. DAVE AND I WERE NOT ON A DATE, SO SHUT THE FUCK UP. YES, WE ARE DATING _NOW,_ BUT WE WEREN’T YESTERDAY. YES, HE’S THE ONE I HIT WITH MY CAR. NO, YOU SHITLICKERS CANNOT MEET HIM. NOT UNTIL WE’RE BOTH GOOD AND FUCKING READY. DIE MAD ABOUT IT.

CG: AND FOR FUCK’S SAKE, STOP MAKING UP FUCKING CONSPIRACY THEORIES ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIPS. IT’S NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS AND NOT A SINGLE ONE OF YOU KNOWS JACK SHIT ABOUT ROMANCE SO PARDON FUCKING ME FOR NOT TAKING ANY BULLSHIT ADVICE YOU GIVE SERIOUSLY.

CG: DO NOT REPLY TO THIS MEMO. I’LL TALK TO YOU JACKASSES WHEN I’M NOT BUSY TAKING CARE OF THE GUY I CONCUSSED.

He closes the memo just as he sees a list of his idiot friends starting to type. None of them can follow directions, even if their fucking lives depended on it. His phone immediately starts vibrating with private messages and he groans, powering it off and massaging his temples, feeling a headache starting to bloom behind his eyes.

-

Dave’s eyes pop open. His lip sticks out as he tries to count, which probably isn’t great considering the whole concussion thing but whatever.

“Oh shit, it was four,” Dave says, “Well, at least one of us is keeping track.”

Dave looks up to see that Karkat has already put his phone away, in fact it looks like he’d shut it off entirely and set it down beside him, and was now scowling at nothing while he rubbed his head.

“I thought you were gonna talk to your friends,” Dave says, “Don’t you think that you being so short in your responses is only gonna make them more suspicious? They’re gonna think you’ve got Stockholm syndrome or some shit.”

Dave knew he was always going to be ‘the guy Karkat hit with his car and then started to date’, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to establish something a little bit better than that in the eyes of Karkat’s friends.

Dave lifts up his foot and nudges Karkat in the arm.

“Babe, come on.” Dave urges, “Talk to them.”

If what he knows about Karkat’s past relationships is anything to go by, Karkat’s friends are probably worried that Karkat’s gone and wound up falling head over heels for yet another asshole who was going to treat him like garbage and probably manipulated him into being in a relationship.

And Karkat shutting himself off from his friends wasn’t going to help them think that any less.

“The more you avoid them, the more worried they’re all gonna get,” Dave goes on, dropping his leg back into Karkat’s lap. “So quit your bellyachin’ and talk to your damn friends.”

-

“Poke me with your foot again and I’ll rip it off,” Karkat threatens, but the effect is lessened by his hand finding Dave’s calf and starting to rub circles into it. He leans his head back against the couch and sighs. “It’s none of their damn business. They’re just going to guilt me into meeting you before you’re ready.”

He also doesn’t want to admit that he might not be Dave’s soulmate, and he _knows_ his desire to keep that particular tidbit to himself will crumble the second one of his friends is genuinely happy for him. It’s not like he can keep it from them forever, or even until Dave’s cast comes off, but it’s been a _day_. Karkat thinks he’s allowed more time than that, to get used to the idea himself.

Besides, it’s not like they know where Dave lives. They can’t come banging on his door demanding Dave free him, or whatever the fuck they have in their empty heads. Sollux might be able to track him down, if he really wanted to, but last Karkat checked he was eyeballs deep in some project and had no intention of surfacing anytime soon.

“They can fucking deal with it,” he says. “I told them we’re dating and that I’ll talk to them later.”

-

Dave merely grins as Karkat threatens him, and the grin softens into a warm smile as Karkat begins to rub his leg.

But what’s Karkat on about anyway, before Dave is ready. Dave doesn’t care when he meets Karkat’s friends, that’s all up to Karkat, not him.

He’s glad they at least know that he and Karkat are officially dating, and if Karkat promised he would give them more details later than Dave would just have to take his word for it. And there was nothing that Dave trusted more than Karkat’s word, at this point.

He supposes it’s also nice, too, just getting to enjoy being with Karkat for now. Just the two of them. With no roommate, they could basically play house all this week and next. Just figuring out all the little things about one another and learning to traverse this weird new thing they find themselves in.

And have a bonkers amount of intercourse, naturally.

Dave stretches his legs with a little groan, sighing as he settles back down. “S’long as you talk to them eventually, that’s fine by me, Karks,” Dave says.

With the leg Karkat isn’t massaging, Dave lifts up his leg a little and rubs deep little circles into the tops of Karkat’s thighs with the heel of his socked foot, going back and forth between both legs.

“Whatcha wanna do? Want me to let you up so you can get into somethin’ comfier than these jeans?” Dave asks, “Maybe you can read for a bit while I give my eyes a break? Or you can watch some TV or another movie, unless you’re all TV’d out. Maybe some video games, or read the book I got for ya? Then we can go cozy up in my room when you’re ready to try and crash.”

-

Dave doesn’t push any further and Karkat is relieved. He decides that he’ll talk to his friends tomorrow, since it’s so important to Dave. Maybe give them a fifteen minute window to bombard him with bullshit. 

“Yeah, let me get changed,” he says, gently moving Dave’s legs from his lap. “I’ll probably read that book you got me.”

He stands up and goes into John’s room to change. He wonders if he should move his shit into Dave’s room for convenience, but he doesn’t want to assume, so he changes into his pajamas, grabs his book, and stops off at the kitchen to get two glasses of water before heading back to the living room.

-

“Sounds good, babe.” Dave says, lifting up his legs when Karkat starts to move them so Karkat can get up.

He’d change into pajamas too but fuck it, he’s feeling lazy and just wants to stay on the couch. He’ll just change before bed. Karkat comes back looking cute and cozy in his pyjamas and hands Dave a glass of water. Dave sits up so he can slug it back as Karkat settles back down with his book.

Dave sets down his glass, twists around and lies back down, this time with his head on Karkat’s lap. This was more like it.

Dave shuffles around a little and then turns his head around to face Karkat’s stomach, which he kisses—because he can do that now. Dave burrows his face into the soft fabric of Karkat’s shirt, a small smile pulling at his face, his eyes closed contentedly.

-

Karkat doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to Dave fucking kissing his stomach, even through his shirt. It makes him want to squirm, but he doesn’t want to dislodge Dave so he remains still, a blush lighting up his features.

He cracks open his book, finding where he left off, and rests his elbow on the arm of the couch, his other hand stroking Dave’s hair absentmindedly.

Karkat loses himself in his book easily, not noticing time passing. He can spend days with his nose buried in a good book, barely surfacing to get water or use the bathroom. And with how much he’s been sleeping lately he could probably go for a good couple of days without even needing to rest his eyes. 

That’s not the case for Dave, though. So when he shuffles a bit, snapping Karkat out of his intense concentration, he reluctantly closes his book, making a mental note of the page he’s on, and ruffles Dave’s hair.

“Ready for bed, babe?” he asks softly.

-

Getting to lie with his head in Karkat’s lap while Karkat reads a book and plays with his hair is fucking bliss. This entire week has easily been the most relaxing of Dave’s life, and the fact it can always be like this, with Karkat, makes Dave feel like he’s vibrating with excitement.

Dave stretches a little and Karkat asks if he’s ready for bed. Dave blinks open his eyes, bleary after having them closed for so long, and yawns softly.

“Yeah, I think I’m about ready to crash,” he says sleepily.

Dave sits up with a soft groan of exertion, pecks the corner of Karkat’s mouth, and slides off the couch. He quickly heads off to brush his teeth, then head for his bedroom to finally get out of his damn jeans. He manages to undo the clasp on the sling and get out of his button down, and he’s sitting on the bed tugging his jeans down his legs one-handed when Karkat enters the room.

-

Karkat watches Dave go with a dopey little smile, wondering how the fuck he managed to get so lucky. Dave is cute as fuck when he’s tired.

Karkat grabs the glasses and takes them into the kitchen, then goes to brush his own teeth. When he walks into Dave’s bedroom, he finds his boyfriend (!) shirtless, tugging ineffectually at his jeans with his good hand.

“Need some help?” Karkat grins, moving closer to the bed. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls, dragging the jeans off of Dave’s legs in a smooth motion. He tosses them aside and moves up Dave’s body slowly until he’s hoving just a bit over him. Instead of dragging him in for a searing kiss, however, Karkat presses a light kiss to his cheek and steps back, smiling.

He crawls into bed and looks at Dave expectantly. 

“Coming?” he asks.

-

“Right behind you,” Dave says, crawling in next to Karkat.

He’s only wearing boxers and socks at this point and fuck it, he’s still lazy. No pyjamas for him tonight. Besides, the less clothes he’s got on the easier he can feel Karkat’s warmth sink into him.

Since Dave can’t really lie on either side very well, he’s on his back again, lifting up his good arm and flicking his chin at Karkat.

“Scooch in, Kat,” Dave says, “lemme get at those wavy locks of yours.”

-

“Fuck yes,” Karkat says, not giving a shit how eager he comes off as he scoots up under Dave’s arm, nuzzling his face into his bare chest and curling his body around Dave’s.

Dave’s hand sinks into his hair and he hums, pleased. He turns his head slightly, pressing his lips to Dave’s skin and blinking butterfly kisses there as well. He doesn’t feel tired at all, unfortunately. But if the pattern holds true he’ll be feeling relaxed enough to at least doze off soon enough. 

-

Dave grins as Karkat eagerly lays his head down on his bare chest and presses himself flush against Dave’s body. So fuckin’ adorable, Dave’s the luckiest guy ever, getting to have such a cute boyfriend.

He gets right to work, running his fingers through Karkat’s thick curls. Karkat starts to pepper little kisses to Dave’s chest, which would definitely be riling Dave up more if he hadn’t came four times already today. He was tired and could feel his eyelids getting heavy.

But he was going to stay awake and keep this up until Karkat fell asleep, dammit. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he passed out on Karkat before he could even get him feeling drowsy? So Dave keeps it up, trying to rub his fingers into where he thinks some pressure points might be—he’s sort of just rubbing his fingers where Karkat’s had his on Dave’s head and hoping for the best.

-

Dave is getting better at this. Maybe Karkat should walk him through it sometime, tell him all the pressure points he’s hitting. He doubts Dave would be able to follow along with Karkat’s hand in his hair, though, if Dave’s past drowsiness is any indication.

Actually Dave seems pretty fucking tired as it is. Karkat’s pretty sure he was actually sleeping, earlier, and Karkat woke him up. He doesn’t exactly want Dave to stop, since it feels fucking great, but he also doubts his insomnia will let him get more sleep after such a huge reprieve. Still, he lets it continue for a couple minutes more, soaking up the affection.

“You can stop, babe,” he murmurs. “Go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

He can lay with Dave as he sleeps for awhile, then read some more or maybe finish picking up around the house. 

-

Dave tries his damndest, and Karkat does seem relaxed and happy to receive the attention, but he doesn’t show any signs that he’s about to fall asleep. Unlike Dave, who’s hand is starting to go limp in Karkat’s hair as his eyes droop. Karkat’s weight on him is soothing and grounding and reassuring, pulling him deep into the mattress and that much closer to sleep.

Eventually Karkat says he can stop, and go to sleep. Fuck, Karkat sounds wide awake. Insomnia sure was a right bitch, it wasn’t like some amateur head rubs from Dave was going to cure it. Dave pouts about it anyway. So much for his magic touch.

Dave is too tired to argue, though, and if Karkat is wide awake then, well, he’s wide awake. In one last stubborn act of defiance, Dave hooks his arm around the back of Karkat’s neck and pins him in place against his chest. He leans down and places a drowsy kiss into his curly hair, then drops his head back into the pillows.

Karkat may be wide awake, but Dave was still going to cuddle him, dammit. Karkat could always wriggle out of his grip when Dave passed out. Dave seemed to be able to stay asleep around Karkat, since Dave’s mind didn’t register him as a Threat.

-

Karkat lets out a tiny laugh as Dave gets him in what essentially amounts to a very cuddly headlock. He doesn’t bother fighting, lets the weight and warmth curl around him and focuses on Dave’s even breathing. Time crawls to a stop and Karkat lets himself enjoy being held. 

Dave isn’t like anyone he’s ever dated before--soulmate aside. That’s probably a good thing, though. His friends will certainly be pleased. 

Eventually Karkat gently wiggles out of Dave’s grasp, placing his arm down next to him as Dave snuffles a bit, curling into the warm spot Karkat vacated. He smiles, watching Dave, until he starts to feel kind of creepy, and then he retreats to the living room. He grabs his phone and turns it on.

CG: HELLO AGAIN, IDIOTS. I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT NONE OF YOU ARE CAPABLE OF MAINTAINING A DECENT SLEEP SCHEDULE, SO I’VE GRACIOUSLY DECIDED TO ALOT YOU FIFTEEN ENTIRE MINUTES OF MY VALUABLE FUCKING TIME. LET’S GET ALL YOUR INANE QUESTIONS OUT OF THE WAY SO WE CAN MOVE ON WITH OUR LIVES.

The next quarter hour is a trial of Karkat’s patience. He fields congratulations, Vriska’s surprise that he managed to trick another sucker into dating him, some thinly veiled and some completely blatant threats on Dave’s life, and various concerns. Terezi demands to know when they can meet him and Karkat tells her that if he had his way, never, but probably sometime after Dave’s concussion fully heals.

And then Eridan asks him what makes him think Dave will be any different from the past dickbags he’s dated and Karkat, at his limit, snaps.

CG: I DON’T FUCKING KNOW, ERIDAN, MAYBE THE FACT THAT HE’S MY SOULMATE?

Which leads to an extra half hour of bullshit. By the time he turns off his phone again he’s ready to never talk to a person ever again. Except Dave. Dave he’ll talk to.

He does the dishes, cleans up the kitchen a bit, and afterwards finds himself with excess energy so he goes for a run. Running at night is something he does fairly often, though not usually in neighborhoods he’s unfamiliar with. He jogs past the park he and Dave had their picnic at and smiles.

When he gets back he’s sweaty and gross and physically worn out, but his head is still going a mile a minute. He takes a shower and sprawls out on the couch with his book, content to pass the time like this until he thinks he can sleep or until Dave wakes up.

When the sunlight starts to peak through the windows, Karkat places his book down and goes to curl back up under the covers with Dave. He still doesn’t feel very tired, but cuddling with his boyfriend sounds perfect. It’s a surprise when Dave’s heartbeat lulls him to sleep.

-

Dave is woken up by sunlight hitting his eyelids. His eyes flicker open blearily, and he looks over to see Karkat pressed up against him, fast asleep.

Dave doesn’t dare budge, not wanting to chance anything that could wake Karkat up. He’s not in Dave’s cuddle-chokehold anymore, so he must have moved Dave’s arm at some point. Which means he really was able to move Dave without Dave waking up. That had to be some kind of superpower.

Karkat’s hair looked a little damp, and Dave could smell his vanilla conditioner. He must have gotten up to have a shower. Maybe he thought a hot shower would help him get some sleep? How long was Karkat up for? How long has he been back in bed?

Dave watches Karkat’s sleeping face for a while, then decides he’s way too wide awake to try and get back to sleep. But since he doesn’t know how long Karkat’s been asleep, he doesn’t want to wake him, either.

Letting his training kick in, Dave carefully lifts his sheets and gets up out of bed and over to the door in a soundless flash. His hand hovers for a brief instead on the doorknob. Gah, he’s still just in boxers and socks...

...Fuckin’ whatever.

Dave slips silently out of the room and shuts the door behind him. He never even made the floorboards creak. Bro’s training was good for something at least—helped his insomniac boyfriend catch a few more precious Zs.

Dave heads into the kitchen and goes about making coffee. Despite being out in the kitchen now, he still doesn’t let himself make a noise. There’s no apprehension to it, for the very first time. He’s never gotten to use his training for something other than his own self-preservation. He’s just trying not to wake up his boyfriend. It’s mundane. It’s nice.

Looks like Karkat cleaned the kitchen up, too. The dishes are gone from the sink, counters are wiped clean of crumbs...damn, did he even organize the dishes in the cupboard? How long did he stay up for?? Insomnia was no fucking joke.

Dave leans against the counter, looking at his phone while he waits for the coffee to come to a boil. Maybe he should look up insomnia stuff? Maybe there was more he could do to help him...

He should get better at those head massages.

-

Karkat wakes up alone, which is disappointing as fuck but nothing he isn’t used to. It was probably too much to ask, waking up next to Dave three mornings in a row. 

He stretches, hearing his back pop, and sits up. He glares hazily at the window. It looks like he managed to get a couple hours, at least. He doesn’t feel as shitty as he usually does, either, likely because he got some good sleep previously. 

He stumbles to the kitchen, smelling coffee, which he desperately needs. He spies Dave sitting on the couch and alters his course to beeline towards him instead of the kitchen, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. 

“Mornin’,” he grumbles sleepily.

-

Dave puts down his phone, looking away from the article he was reading to crane his head to look up at Karkat, who’s standing behind the couch, leaning over him. Dave smiles, reaching up to pull Karkat by the shirt down for a proper kiss on the lips.

“Morning, sugarmuffin.” Dave says with a cheeky grin.

Dave gets up off the couch, leaving his phone behind on the armrest with the article still open. He’d finish reading it later. Now that his boyfriend is awake, it’s time to fix him up with some java. Dave heads into the kitchen and pulls out two mugs, pouring himself and Karkat two piping cups of coffee. He leaves his on the counter to fuck up with cream and sugar, and brings Karkat’s over to him as Karkat follows him groggily into the kitchen.

Dave presses the mug into Karkat’s hands and presses a quick kiss to his cheek before going back to his own coffee to fix it up how he likes it. When that’s done, he turns around and leans against the counter, smiling over the rim of his mug as Karkat clutches his steaming mug with both hands and takes a large gulp of coffee. Dave was never going to get tired of the sight.

Dave must look pretty ridiculous himself, with his bedhead he never bothered to tame, and his outfit consisting of boxers, socks, and shades. Karkat’s got the whole groggy morning look down to a science. Somehow his dark circles just make him look even sexier.

Dave’s relieved he’s got the shades to hide the fact he was just ogling SleepyKat for the billionth time, but there’s no hiding the redness in his ears. Maybe he can blame it on the caffeine. He hides his reddening cheeks behind his mug as he takes another sip.

-

Dave greets him with kisses and coffee and Karkat thinks this must be heaven. He gulps down a few drinks, then shuffles further into the kitchen, crowding Dave up against the counter. He gives him a sleepy, closed-mouth kiss since he still has morning breath and buries his head into Dave’s neck, resting some of his weight on him and closing his eyes.

He sets his mug down on the counter behind Dave and wraps an arm around Dave’s waist, enjoying the slide of his skin against Dave’s own. Dave looks good no matter what he does, but especially like this, sleep ruffled and soft, just in boxers and socks.

“Never fucking call me sugarmuffin again,” Karkat says, dropping light kisses to Dave’s neck. 

-

Karkat comes over and presses Dave up against the counter to press his lips to his and yep, Dave is definitely okay with the events proceeding here. He hums happily into the kiss, setting down his mug on the counter so he can wrap his one free arm around Karkat’s waist as Karkat rests his head on Dave’s shoulder.

Dave grins mischievously as Karkat grumbles about the pet name as he peppers little kisses to Dave’s neck. He turns his head to press a kiss to Karkat’s temple as his hand roams under Karkat’s shirt and squeezes his hip.

“Sorry, baby,” Dave breathes into Karkat’s ear, “Maybe you’d prefer angelcakes?”

-

Dave slips his hand under Karkat’s shirt and Karkat smiles, humming consideringly. He never fucking smiles in the mornings, what the fuck? He rarely smiles at all, but especially not in the morning.

“Not on your life,” he decides. He licks lightly at Dave’s neck, pulling back so he can nip at his earlobe. “Try again, sweetheart, I’m sure you’ll get there.”

This isn’t what he had in mind when he followed Dave into the kitchen. He was going to drink some coffee and be grumpily dragged into the waking world, like usual. He should have known that’s not how it would be with Dave around. It feels like Dave improves his life in every way.

-

Dave makes a soft little gasp at the licks and nibbles to his neck. Paired with the _sweetheart_ , it’s a deadly combo. Karkat is just pulling out all the stops this morning, huh? It’s cool, Dave can play that game, too.

“Honey bunches?” Dave offers, running his hand up the small of Karkat’s back.

He slides his hand around to Karkat’s front, sliding it up his stomach before grabbing a handful of Karkat’s broad pectoral muscle and giving it a squeeze.

“Sugartits?” Dave says, running his lips along Karkat’s jaw in a featherlight, teasing touch.

Dave brushes his lips down to Karkat’s neck and presses a warm, wet kiss right in the middle. “Alright, let’s kick it old school,” Dave says, “What about _lover_?”

-

Karkat cracks a smile at _honeybunches_ and bites his lip when Dave touches his stomach. It’s not sensitive the way his neck is, but he clearly has some sort of reaction there. He likes to pretend his stomach just… doesn’t exist. But maybe, when he and Dave are more comfortable with each other, that might be something to explore. Maybe.

 _Sugartits_ has him laughing out loud, but when Dave’s voice dips low and says _lover_ the laughter catches in his throat and his eyes flutter shut.

“I could get used to that one,” he says, running a hand up and down Dave’s spine. “Might have to try it a few more times, though.”

He barely survived hearing it _once_. Karkat Vantas, killed by affectionate nicknames. What a way to go, though.

-

Hah. Dave knew that one would get his hopeless romantic of a boyfriend.

“I think I can handle that, _lover_ ,” Dave murmurs, right into Karkat’s ear.

So _babe, baby, darlin’, sweetheart, sugar, lover_...yep, Karkat was definitely all about the super sugary-sweet nicknames. He was the one who started them, after all, calling Dave baby for the first time when they started fooling around for the first time the other day.

Karkat also lets Dave butcher his name in all sorts of ways, too. And Dave has a feeling he might be an exception to a rule in that regard. Which makes his stomach all fluttery with delight, knowing he’s got VIP access to something Karkat doesn’t let just anyone get away with.

It makes him wonder how far that stretches.

-

Karkat shivers at Dave’s voice in his ear, feeling heat curl in his belly. But he’s here to take care of Dave, not give him orgasm-induced migraines like he did yesterday, so instead of dropping to his knees like he _wants_ to, he pulls back and kisses Dave on the nose.

“Have you eaten yet, babe?” he asks. “I can make omelettes.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; if Dave did eat it was probably gross, unhealthy cereal, and he needs more than that. He starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge, feeling himself wake up more. 

-

Dave shakes his head. “Nah, wanted to wait for you,” Dave says, “omelettes sound awesome.”

Dave watches as Karkat starts to pull ingredients out of the fridge and sets them onto the counter. Dave comes up behind Karkat and kisses the back of his neck.

“Anything I can do?” Dave asks.

He knows he already made coffee, but he feels like he could be doing more to help. Karkat’s here to do this stuff, but now that they’re dating Dave feels even more obligated than before not to leave Karkat doing all the work.

He is totally going to spoil Karkat once the fucking cast is off. He’s gonna wait on Karkat hand and foot, not let him lift a fucking finger. Just a whole day of pampering and making Karkat feel special and lo—appreciated.

-

Karkat makes a thoughtful sound.

“Omelettes are pretty easy,” he says. “But if you wanna crack those eggs and mix them up while I cut up the veggies that would be good.”

They don’t have many vegetables here. Karkat isn’t surprised, and he can make do, but it’s a bit disappointing that Dave will have to eat a lackluster omelette with just onions, garlic, and whatever spices Karkat throws in. At least they have cheese.

Karkat makes up the omelettes, giving Dave easy tasks to do since he seems intent on helping instead of relaxing. He eagerly accepts each one, which is cute. Karkat’s starting to think that Dave’s ignorance when it comes to cooking is just because he was never given the opportunity to learn, and if that’s the case Karkat is very much willing to teach him.

“Thanks for the help, babe,” he says when they’re done, catching Dave by the waist and pulling him in for a quick kiss. He passes Dave his plate, carrying his own and their drinks into the living room. He sits down and takes a bite. Not bad, considering what he had to work with. 

-

Karkat lets Dave help throughout the whole process, and Dave is happy to finally feel like he’s being useful. It’s fun, getting to cook alongside Karkat. Pretty fucking cumbersome with the cast, obviously, but Dave is starting to get the hang of life as a one-armed dude, so he’s not fumbling with shit nearly as much as he did in the first few days. By the time he’s fully accustomed to the thing, it’ll be coming off.

Karkat even thanks Dave for the help afterwards, snaking a big arm around Dave’s waist (which was already small but christ do Karkat’s big fuckin’ arms make him feel petite in the best kind of way) and pulling him in for a kiss. Dave makes a surprised but pleased sound at the kiss, and he’s left with a goofy grin on his face when Karkat pulls away and passes him his plate.

They take their omelettes and coffee into the living room to eat on the couch. The omelette is delicious as always—Karkat really knew how to take the bare bones amount of ingredients and turn it into something that miraculously wasn’t bland to the taste buds.

When they’re finished eating, Dave leans over and pecks Karkat on the cheek and takes his plate away. His mug of coffee only has a few sips left, so Dave takes their plates and his own mug into the kitchen and then comes back out to the living room with the percolator to refill Karkat’s mug with fresh coffee.

Who says the spoiling can’t start a little early?

“Thanks for breakfast, lover,” Dave says, and then leans down and presses a kiss to Karkat’s temple before heading back to the kitchen to put the percolator back on the stove.

When Dave comes back out to the living room, Dave comes up behind the couch and wraps his arm around Karkat’s neck from behind and presses a kiss into his hair, before resting his chin on the top of Karkat’s head.

This was the honeymoon phase, wasn’t it? Dave had never been in an actual relationship before, so he’s never gotten to experience it first-hand until now.

He’s definitely repressed affections, to the point it’s all coming out now with Karkat in one big, goopy, sugary heap. It’ll probably get pretty tiresome, having Dave hang all over Karkat like this. Everyone needed their personal space now and then, right? Dave will have to let up, eventually. For now, though, he’s gotta feed the touch-starved part of himself just a little while longer. Hopefully Karkat won’t mind.

-

Dave’s behind him, so Karkat doesn’t bother reigning in his wide smile at the endearment. It makes him feel goddamn soft and fuzzy, hearing Dave call him _lover_. It’s probably lame as shit, but Karkat can’t bring himself to care.

“You’re welcome, babe,” he says. “I like cooking for you.”

He tilts his head back, pressing his lips right up under Dave’s chin as he stretches.

“Do you have anything specific you want to do today?” he asks.

Whatever they do, Karkat hopes there’s more cuddling involved. Now that he’s gotten some in he never wants to stop, wants to wrap himself around Dave and exist like that forever. 

-

Dave hums thoughtfully, but it’s mostly for show. He’s already been thinking about what he wanted to do today all of last night and this morning while he waited for Karkat to wake up.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Dave says, “But you better get that second coffee into you before I can act on any of them.”

Dave slides his hand down Karkat’s broad chest as he kisses Karkat on the temple, working his way down to his ear.

“Gonna need your energy,” Dave murmurs softly next to Karkat’s ear, “Because I plan to drag it out _aaall_ day long.”

Dave gives the shell of Karkat’s ear a little nip.

“I gotta avoid _strenuous_ activity, of course. But nobody ever said I couldn’t indulge so long as I take my sweet time. Plus, it seems like you didn’t manage to get quite a lot of sleep last night...”

Dave kisses behind Karkat’s ear, and brushes across Karkat’s nipple through his shirt.

“So I’m thinking I oughta get you back in bed...” Dave whispers, “And fuck you _nice and slow_.”

-

Karkat gasps at the touches, arching into them. Fuck, he should say no, right? Dave’s supposed to be _resting_ , recovering because Karkat fucking _hurt_ him. But Karkat’s putty in his hands and he’s starting to think Dave is well aware of it.

“Fuck, Dave,” he breathes, trying to gather himself. “Shit, okay. C’mere, baby.”

He pulls Dave around the arm of the couch and tugs him into his lap. 

“You’re taking tylenol first,” he says, running a hand through Dave’s hair. “And if your head starts hurting _at all_ we have to stop, okay? I’m not gonna be the reason your symptoms get worse. Can you agree to that?”

-

“Whatever gets you in that bed faster, babe.” Dave murmurs, already leaning in to kiss Karkat’s lips.

He straddles Karkat for a while, kissing him slow and sensuous, with lots of little kitten licks and nibbles along his bottom lip. Then Dave pulls away, sliding out of Karkat’s lap. The Tylenol is on the kitchen counter, with the cap left off for easy access. Dave slugs some apple juice right out of the bottle (he’s the only one that drinks it anyway) and downs two pills.

Karkat comes into the kitchen and puts his empty mug in the sink. He must have slammed his coffee back. Dave grins at that, then goes over to Karkat and grabs him by the front of the shirt and drags him out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“Alright, back to bed with you,” Dave says as they enter Dave’s room.

He pulls Karkat into the room until Karkat has his back to the bed. Dave leans up and kisses Karkat firm and deep.

“Strip, and lie down,” Dave orders once he pulls away from Karkat’s mouth.

His heart is already pounding. He’s never gotten to be… _bossy_ before, and especially not as the one in charge. It’s certainly not something he’s used to, but it’s definitely something he could _get_ used to, as long as Karkat was into it.

As Karkat strips down, Dave slides off his boxers and kicks them aside. And, fuck it, socks too. It’s gonna be hard enough to pull of the ‘commanding sexy guy’ shtick with a big red cast on his arm, don’t want to hurt his game even more by wearing fucking socks during sex.

Karkat lies down on the bed, and Dave takes a minute to just...appreciate Karkat in all his lovely, naked glory for a moment before he crawls into bed and settles between Karkat’s legs. Dave smiles at Karkat as he squeezes at Karkat’s thigh, gentle but firm, digging his fingertips in just enough to knead the large muscles there.

“Hi, baby.” Dave says, taking his voice down to a low register.

Karkat did seem to enjoy Dave’s voice, and considering Dave’s general appearance these days, he only had so many weapons in his arsenal. So if he was going to look like a fucking goof with this big stupid cast, he could at least sound sexy.

Maybe Karkat could just close his eyes and pretend Dave didn’t look like a total dingus trying to top him with a cast on.

Dave reaches up and slides off his shades, almost forgetting he still had them on, and sets them aside on the bedside table, and offers Karkat his bedroom eyes and a sultry smirk.

-

Karkat strips eagerly and lays on the bed, trying not to feel awkward as fuck. Dave is so goddamn sexy, and Karkat rarely ever gets to be the one on the bottom, or the one taken care of. He’s not very good at it; he falls much better into the role of power bottom, but for Dave he’s willing to try to lay back and relax.

And god, he’d do anything Dave asked him if he used that voice. Dave could boss him around all day and Karkat wouldn’t have a single fucking problem with it. 

Dave being incredibly attractive doesn’t exactly help with Karkat’s nervousness, laying completely naked on top of the covers. He’s able to keep it contained, thankfully, by reminding himself that Dave thinks he’s attractive. Karkat doesn’t want Dave to pick up on his awkwardness and have it turn into another body-image peptalk. 

“Hey,” he replies, smiling slightly. His voice falters as he says, “I, uh, haven’t done this part recently so. I’ll need some prep, sorry.”

He wants to groan at himself. Way to be sexy, dickbag.

-

“Ain’t no sorry about it, baby,” Dave says softly, pushing his bangs back before leaning over and opening up the bedside table. “Getting you ready is half the fun.”

Dave grabs the lube out of the drawer, but quickly realizes he’s not going to be able to put it on his own hand. He pops the cap open with his thumb, and then passes the bottle to Karkat.

“Get my fingers nice and wet, baby,” Dave tells him, making sure to keep on the Sexy Voice so it doesn’t seem like he just...forgot to factor in he wouldn’t be able to get his own fucking fingers lubed up. “Then I’ll take real good care of you.”

Karkat pours the lube into Dave’s hand, making sure to be generous. Artificial-strawberry fills the air as Dave rubs the lube into his fingers. Karkat sets the bottle aside and Dave reaches down between Karkat’s legs, rubbing his slicked up fingers between his cheeks and massaging around his rim.

Fucking Christ, this would be so much better and easier with two fucking hands! Dave massages around Karkat’s rim the best he can from this angle, but quickly realizes this is, unfortunately, going to be a lot easier for the both of them if Karkat isn’t facing them.

“As much as I love looking at your handsome face, can you turn onto your knees for me, darlin’?” Dave asks. He says it like it’s just all part of his grand plan, and not like he’s just...winging it and making this all up as he goes.

Karkat seems happy to oblige however, so, that’s good at least. Now Dave’s got much easier access. He continues to coat the area up with the strawberry lube as much as he can with his hand. Rubbing along the edge firmly with the tips of his fingers, getting Karkat nice and relaxed before he goes any farther.

Then, Dave gets an idea. He reaches for the bottle of lube and turns it over, drizzling lube right on the cleft of Karkat’s ass and watching as it dripped slowly down to Karkat’s hole. Some drops rolled in rivulets down past his perineum and into his balls—Dave licks his lips.

“Y’know, I thought I was full from breakfast, but...”

Dave leans down and bites at one of Karkat’s asscheeks.

“I think I’ve still got some room for dessert.” Dave murmurs, “That okay with you, baby?”

-

Dave is taking his sweet goddamn time, rubbing around Karkat’s entrance but not actually slipping a finger in. But Karkat’s trying not to be a bossy demanding little shit so he follows Dave’s directions as best he can, gets on his hands and knees, and doesn’t thrust his hips back. 

He sucks in a sharp breath at the cold lube hitting his skin, and whimpers at the bite. 

And holy shit, is Dave asking if he can _eat Karkat out_?

“Y-yeah,” he says, face burning. “That’s more than fucking okay. I’ve never--No one’s ever done that to me before.”

It’s easier to admit without having to look at Dave’s expression. Karkat’s done it to a couple of the people he dated, but never received it in kind. They never seemed interested, and Karkat clearly got by well enough without.

But if Dave’s _offering_...

-

Dave grins when he hears Karkat’s consent, and then even wider when Karkat says he’s never had it done to him before. If Dave could purr his chest would be rumbling right now.

“So I get to be the first? Lucky me,” Dave says huskily.

He sits upright, knocks his head back and pours a bunch of lube onto his tongue. Dave sets the bottle aside while he holds the lube in his mouth, and then leans down and runs a sloppy, warm stripe across Karkats rim.

He swirls his tongue around in slow, deep circles around his entrance, until he finally spears the tip of his tongue inside. Dave uses his hand to spread of Karkat’s cheeks so he can get better access with his tongue, alternating from shallowly tongue-fucking Karkat’s hole to licking around his rim.

Then, Dave lets go of Karkat’s ass and brings his still-lubed up fingers back to Karkat’s rim. He licks one final stripe with his tongue, and then slowly starts to insert his middle finger into Karkat until he’s down to the knuckle. He twists his wrist and wiggles around his finger, massaging around Karkat’s inner walls.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Dave breathes, pressing a kiss to the small of Karkat’s back. “I’ve got my work cut out for me, huh? That’s just fine. Love eating you out, workin’ you open on my fingers and my tongue.”

Dave’s achingly hard by this point, his cock already leaking. He can feel a bead of it gather and drip down onto the sheets.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard already, baby, just from your taste,” Dave whispers. He nips at Karkat’s hips, his finger still slowly working open Karkat’s hole.

“Gonna feel so fuckin’ good when I finally sink my cock inside you,” Dave breathes. He leaves a trail of kisses back down until he’s licking at Karkat’s rim again while his finger still rubs down his inner walls.

Eventually Dave thinks Karkat’s waited patiently long enough, and is good and ready for a second finger.

Dave pulls out his first finger entirely, grinning at the sound Karkat makes from the sudden loss. He shushes Karkat gently, giving his ass a firm squeeze.

“Shhh, I got you, baby,” Dave whispers, “I’ll give you what you need, don’t you worry.”

Dave presses more kisses to Karkat’s back as he pushes in his middle and ring finger, burying them down to the knuckles.

“How’s that, baby?” Dave asks, his voice thick with arousal, “You like that? Tell me how good it feels, tell me what you need from me and I’ll give it to you, darlin’, anything you want...”

-

A tongue feels much different than a finger, though Karkat would be hard pressed to describe ho*. It feels good, though, what Dave is doing, though it’s not nearly _enough_. His dick slowly hardens between his thighs as Dave licks into him.

He bites his lip to keep from demanding _mor_ *, keeps his hips still so he isn’t fucking himself back on Dave’s tongue and finger. The noise he makes when Dave removes his finger entirely is embarrassing as fuck, but the reassurances make up for it.

“ _God_ , Dave.” If Dave wants to hear him talk then Karkat will fucking _talk_. “Feels so fucking good, baby. Never get to bottom, always forget how good it feels. More, please, c’mon.”

He clenches the sheets in his hands. The stretch of Dave’s fingers is wonderful, and he knows he shouldn’t rush this, but he wants more; he wants Dave’s cock inside him.

“Fuck, baby, need more,” he begs. “Can I touch myself?”

He’s tempted to reach between his legs while Dave gets him ready, but Dave is the one calling the shots here. It’s… weird, asking permission to jerk himself off, but he’s not complaining. Yet, anyway. 

-

Karkat’s asking for more, of course he is, but Dave isn’t sure if he wants to give it to him just yet.

He feels a bit mean—he did just tell Karkat he could ask for anything. But Dave thought it might be something like _more tongue_ , or add _another finger_ , not _can I touch myself_.

If Karkat did that, he’d get so worked up, so quickly. They’d only just begun, and Dave already said he wanted this to last all day long. If Karkat really starts to get cranky over it, Dave might change his mind later, but, for now...

Dave wants to test that limit, and see how much Karkat is willing to do just because Dave says so. And what better way to do that, than to deny Karkat what he’s asked for so nicely?

Dave leans right down, until his chest is pressed up against Karkat’s back. Karkat will be able to feel his cock pressed up against his ass like this too, will get to feel how hard Dave is for him...and there’s nothing he’ll be able to do about it.

“No touching, baby,” Dave whispers into Karkat’s ear, “I’m the one looking after you today, remember? And I also said I was gonna take my time. So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Dave runs his hand up Karkat’s back and grasps the tufts of hair on the back of his head and gives them a pull. Nothing too hard, but still enough that it pulls Karkat’s head back.

“You said so yourself, you rarely ever get to bottom. That it feels _good_ to give over the control for a change and let yourself be taken care of.”

Dave lets go of Karkat’s hair and kisses softly down his neck.

“So, let me take care of you, baby,” Dave purrs, “Want to make this last, draw this out for as long as I can, make you feel good for _hours_. How am I supposed to do that if you jerk yourself off, huh?”

Dave kisses down Karkat’s shoulders and down his spine. He reaches for the bottle of lube and pours even more out, directly onto Karkat’s rim.

“You want more, baby, I know. And I’ll give you more, I promise,” Dave says gently.

Then, he pushes three fingers inside Karkat, all at once, until they’re buried down to the knuckles.

“How’s that, sweetheart?”

-

Karkat whines as Dave tells him _no touching_. Dave’s dick is hard and teasing against him, and it’s not fucking fair, Dave said _anything_. Karkat’s cock throbs between his legs as Dave tugs his head back and speaks words that go molten in his core.

“Fuu _uuuck_ ,” Karkat groans, closing his eyes against the stretch and burn of three fingers. He breathes through it. “I don’t know if I can do this for hours, baby.”

He keeps his hands fisted in the sheets and rocks his hips back on Dave’s fingers. No touching. It seems like an impossible task, now that it’s all he fucking wants to do, but Dave wants to take his time and Karkat will at least try. He thinks he’ll manage, as long as Dave keeps kissing him and talking to him so sweetly.

He bites his lip as Dave slowly starts pumping his fingers in and out, and a breathy moan escapes him when Dave brushes over his prostate. Dave’s neighbors are going to file noise complaints at this rate.

“Oh fuck, Dave, baby,” he pants. “There, again, please.”

Another moan, as Dave presses over the spot again. 

-

Karkat says he isn’t sure if he could do this for hours, but Dave sure as fuck could.

Having Karkat whine and moan under him, grabbing at the sheets and rocking his hips back to fuck himself on Dave’s fingers? Dave could do this all fucking day, if Karkat would allow it. Even if it meant Karkat was a wreck by the end, panting and gasping and sobbing as he begged Dave to let him touch himself, to let him finally cum.

Dave’s mouth is watering just thinking about it.

God, he fucking missed getting to switch it up. All his previous partners were all about topping, they never let Dave take the reigns. Which Dave was fine with, for most part, but there was clearly an itch there that had long gone unscratched. And Karkat’s finally letting him.

Karkat begs for more as Dave presses against his sweet spot, and when he’s moaning so prettily, how could Dave possibly deny him? Dave leans down again, pressing his chest flush to Karkat’s back and kissing at his shoulders as he slowly rocks his fingers in and out of Karkat.

On the inward thrust, he grinds the tips of all three fingers against Karkat’s prostate. On the pull out, he starts to rub his thumb up and down Karkat’s perineum.

“That’s it, baby,” Dave says, voice practically a groan at this point with how beside himself with arousal he is now, “Opening up so perfectly for me.”

Dave grinds his fingers in a little more insistently, pressing down on Karkat’s prostate as he bites down on Karkat’s shoulder. Dave pulls away and kisses over the mark he leaves on the skin, and then slowly pulls out his three fingers. Karkat makes another loud sound of protest at the loss, and Dave shushes him again.

“Hang on, baby, just hang on. I’ve got you.” Dave coos, peppering little kisses all along the back of Karkat’s shoulders as he leans over to reach into his bedside table for a condom.

He pulls away so he can rip the packet open with his teeth, spitting the foil aside.

“Waited so patiently, baby,” Dave says, as he slides the condom out of the packet, flicks the garbage away and slides it on to his throbbing dick. All one-handed, thank you very much, and without very much fumbling at all. Dave was pretty determined when there was something he wanted bad enough.

Dave lines up his cock with Karkat’s entrance and slowly pushes himself inside, groaning as he pushes past the ring of muscle and the head of his cock works its way inside slowly and then all at once.

“Oh, fuck...” Dave moans, head tilting back as he slowly pushes himself in, “Feel so fucking good, Karkat...”

When Dave bottoms out, his chest is pressed up against Karkat’s back again. Dave doesn’t have the best leverage to thrust without both his hands to hold Karkat in place, but he would do his best.

He doesn’t plan to thrust hard and fast and wild, anyway. He promised Karkat slow and that’s what he’d give him.

Dave starts a deep grind, rolling his hips against Karkat’s ass, groaning at the sensation. He starts talking, planning to fill Karkat’s ears with tons of dirty words to keep him satisfied while he fucks him slow and steady.

“Feel good, being full of cock again, baby? Bet you missed this feeling, huh?” Dave croons kissing along Karkat’s shoulders while he rolls his hips.

“How’s it feel, baby, finally being filled with my cock? Wanna hear you tell me..”

-

Dave’s praise makes Karkat shudder and his talented fingers pressing against Karkat’s prostate feels fucking amazing. His cock drips precum all over the sheets as Karkat gasps and moans, thrusting his hips back, trying to get Dave to move faster. Dave is so good at this, what the fuck, Karkat needs to up his game.

The sting of Dave biting his shoulder surprises a whimper out of him, but it’s nothing compared to the loss he feels as Dave pulls out his fingers. The kisses he gets are nowhere near enough to make up for it, but he keeps quiet as Dave searches for a condom.

Dave pushes his cock in achingly slowly, and it takes an incredible amount of self control for Karkat not to slam his hips back and take what he needs.

Even when Karkat’s taken things slow before there was always a sense of urgency, chasing down his partner’s and his own orgasms. He’s never thought of the sex as _bad_ , but with Dave fucking into him, deep and slow and unhurried, those past experiences are starting to feel like… using someone to masturbate. 

Maybe that’s how it is with soulmates, or maybe it’s because it’s with Dave. Either way, tears spring to Karkat’s eyes and he doesn’t even know _why_ , but he’s glad Dave can’t see them.

“S-so good, baby,” he whimpers. “Fucking h-aah _full_ of you. Stretching me o-open so perfect, fuck.”

He closes his eyes and tears stick to his lashes. He tries to commit all the little details of this to memory. The slow slide of Dave’s dick against his prostate, the weight of him pressing into Karkat’s back, the light kisses he peppers along Karkat’s shoulders.

He wants to beg for more, but what more is there? Dave’s already denied him the ability to touch himself, and he’s set on this slow, tortuous pace. It will take Karkat forever to get off like this and that’s exactly what Dave wants. 

Part of him is annoyed; wants to flip Dave over and set the pace himself, take and take and take until he’s satisfied. The larger part of him is willing to do whatever the fuck Dave wants. There’s a sense of relief, not being the one in charge for once, and he trusts Dave to give him what he needs eventually, even if he spends hours teasing him first.

“Hhhhh, _baby_ , so fucking perfect.”

-

Look, Dave knows he’s got a thing for praise. It really did something for him to hear he was doing good, and if it feels good when bottoming, then it feels absolutely incredible when topping. Especially when the praise is coming from Karkat.

It almost makes him lose control, and start rutting in faster. Almost. Dave maintains his slow grind, rolling his hips a few more times before he leans back, pulling his cock about halfway out and then pushing back in.

He moves slow but pushes in deep with each and every thrust, and makes sure he pushes against Karkat’s prostate with every thrust in. Just because he was going slow doesn’t mean it had to feel like a tease. He was going to show Karkat that a slow fuck could be just as good as a fast one, if not better.

Dave knows from experience that when someone is just rutting into you like a wild animal, it starts to not feel like very much pretty quickly. But Dave would get all caught up in the moment, thinking that because it was fast it felt good. Dave had never gotten a chance to slow things down like this, but with Karkat it just felt right.

He had plenty of time to pound Karkat into the sheets any old time. Which is a very intriguing thought. But for right now, Dave just wants to take his time, slowly but surely pulling Karkat towards his orgasm. Until it practically sneaks up on him.

-

Karkat keens, leaning down to bury his face in the pillow beneath him. He rocks his hips, forcing himself to go slow, meeting Dave on each steady thrust. He feels so _full_ , in more ways than one. Dave is taking his time pulling him apart, treating his pieces gently, and Karkat feels _loved_ , in a way he never has, positive that Dave will put him back together better than before.

That’s so damn sappy. Karkat bites down on his hand to keep the words _love you love you love you_ from spilling out, ruining this before it’s peaked. It doesn’t stop the whimpers and cries he makes every time Dave pushes in. 

It builds so fucking slowly, with Dave pushing in and out at a fucking snail’s pace. Karkat’s trembling, a drooling, panting mess beneath Dave before he notices the telltale heat, the coiling pressure. 

“ _Dave_ ,” he sobs. “Baby, c-close. More, please, please.”

Will Dave let him cum? _Can_ he cum? He’s never cum without having his dick touched before, doesn’t even know if it’s possible. Will Dave let him touch himself, now that he’s been good and _waited_ , or will he touch Karkat himself? Difficult, with only one hand, but Karkat can dream.

He’ll take anything Dave is willing to give him.

-

Karkat fucking sobs out Dave’s name and Dave feels a fire blaze through him from the sound. He has to grit his teeth to hold back the damn-near animalistic urge that comes over him to snap his hips hard into Karkat in the hopes it would make Karkat do it again. He’s very much considering it, but, well...the doctor did say not to be strenuous.

But Karkat’s saying he’s close, is begging Dave for more, saying please—and oh, Karkat’s been so patient and good. Dave would be an absolute monster to deny him any further, especially when he’s right on the edge of orgasm.

Karkat managed to make Dave cum untouched, and Dave wonders if he can give Karkat the same. He’s gotten Karkat this close already with just a slow and steady fuck, he’s sure that Karkat can tip over that edge with just a little more encouragement.

So Dave picks up the pace. His thrusts get a little more urgent, the change in tempo only noticeable because of how slow he’d been going up until now. He slowly builds up the speed until he’s snapping his hips against Karkat over and over, squeezing hard at Karkat’s hip to hold him in place.

“Come on, baby,” Dave pants, “you can do it, come on, _come on_ —“

Then Dave switches it up again, going from deep but snapping thrusts into pulling out almost halfway and then slamming back in, hard and deep. Like a blend of the best of both paces, the feral feeling of a quick fuck with the deep, sensual press of a slow grind.

“You made me cum just from this,” Dave forces out as he slaps his hips against Karkat’s again. “Wanna see if you can do it, too, baby.”

A slow pull out, followed by a hard, deep thrust.

“So come on, baby,” Dave grunts, “ _cum for me,_ Karkat.”

-

Dave finally, finally moves faster, slamming into Karkat the way he needs, and Karkat’s crying out in earnest, now, as Dave’s fingers grip bruises into his hip. Dave’s telling him to cum and he _wants_ to, he does, but it’s just out of his reach and he sobs, frustrated, into the pillow.

His voice is letting out a litany of _Dave, baby, please, please, Dave, so good,_ and the pillow is wet beneath his face from a mixture of tears and saliva and if Karkat had his wits about him he’d be embarrassed as fuck.

But all of him is focused on cumming, on reaching that peak, and when it finally happens it catches him off guard, ripping through him and setting his nerves alight as his balls draw up and he streaks white on the sheets beneath him.

Dave fucks him through it, thrusting into him hard as Karkat trembles into a blissed out mess, slumping into the mattress and gasping for air.

-

Karkat clenches around Dave’s dick as he cums and it makes a shudder jolt up Dave’s back as he groans and rolls his hips against Karkat’s as he cums, too. Karkat slumps down onto the bed and Dave goes down with him, weakly thrusting his hips a few more times as he rides out the last of his orgasm.

Both of them are gasping huge gulps of air, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on Karkat’s back that Dave is sure mirrors his own. He kisses the back of Karkat’s neck and across his shoulders as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

There’s a brief moment of realization after Dave peels off the condom that there’s no way he’s going to be able to tie it up. But he isn’t able to entertain the thought for long because _holy fuck he needs to kiss Karkat right now immediately._ So Dave just drops the condom into the wastebasket by his bed and then flops down onto his back beside Karkat.

“C’mere, baby,” Dave rasps, chest heaving, “C’mere, c’mere, kiss me kiss me kiss me...”

-

It takes a moment for Karkat’s brain to translate Dave’s sounds into words. When he does he rubs his face into the pillow as surreptitiously as he can, then all but collapses onto Dave, kissing him senseless. He’s barely caught his breath and Dave is stealing it away again.

He can only keep it up for so long, though, before he has to rest his head under Dave’s chin. He’s still shaking slightly, entirely wrung out, covered in sweat and lube and his own cum. It doesn’t feel great, but until his skin is crawling Karkat doesn’t plan to move.

“Holy fuck,” he says, which sums up his thoughts rather nicely.

-

“Seconded.” Dave sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

He rubs his hand slowly up and down Karkat’s back as he feels him shaking. Dave hooks his foot into one of the sheets, which is practically hanging off the corner of the bed by a single thread at this point, stretching down a little with a mumbled apology as it shifts Karkat so he can grab the blanket and pull it up over them, making sure he covers Karkat first.

They should...definitely clean up, but Dave doesn’t feel like moving whatsoever. If Karkat’s fine to cool down and rest and snuggle up for a bit, then that’s just fine by Dave.

He continues to rub Karkat’s back, turning to press a soft kiss into Karkat’s hair, which has the lingering smell of vanilla, but there’s also the heady scent of sex and sweat, and strawberry.

Dave buries his nose in and breathes deep.

-

Karkat tilts his head to give Dave’s chest a firm kiss, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable against him.

“You’re smelling me again,” he notes with a weak laugh, his eyes drooping shut.

His brain is blissfully quiet, for once. Sleep is definitely still out of his grasp, but he feels like he could maybe achieve a light doze. He listens to Dave’s heartbeat as it slows down to a normal pace, letting the feel of Dave’s hand rubbing up and down his back soothe his tremors.

He feels the way he does after a particularly good workout, but with the extra benefit of a mind-blowing orgasm on top of that.

“Glad you’re my soulmate,” he mumbles sleepily. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

-

Dave feels a bit sheepish about being caught smelling Karkat’s hair—that was...probably pretty weird of him, wasn’t it? Karkat doesn’t seem creeped out by it or anything, but he says _again_ so this clearly isn’t the first time he’s noticed Dave doing this, he’s just never commented on it.

“S’not my fault you smell so damn good,” Dave mumbles into his curls.

Dave’s embarrassment fades as Karkat tells him he’s glad Dave is his soulmate. He’s glad Karkat can’t see his face right now because he’s got a big cheesy grin on his face.

Dave looks down at the words written in black sharpie against the red tape on his cast.

“Likewise.”

-

Dave says _likewise_ like it’s an immutable fact that Karkat is his soulmate too. Karkat doesn’t correct him. He smiles besottedly into Dave’s chest and lets himself pretend.

When Karkat starts feeling more disgusting than lazy he sighs, pushing himself off of Dave and into a sitting position. He’s starting to ache a bit, but in a good way. He looks back at Dave, grinning at how freshly fucked he looks.

“Shower with me?” Karkat asks hopefully. After a moment he adds, “ _actually_ shower, this time.”

Not that Karkat has anything against their previous shower activities, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to get hard for awhile after _that_.

-

Karkat gets up and Dave laughs weakly at how their skin practically sticks together as they peel apart. So when Karkat mentions a shower, Dave nods in agreement as he slowly sits up.

“One ‘actual’ shower, comin’ up.”

They go through the motions. Karkat grabs some grocery bags from the kitchen and meets Dave in the bathroom. Dave sits on the edge of the tub and grins to himself at the thought of Karkat walking freely around his apartment stark naked, and how much he was going to miss this freedom once John got back from Washington.

Karkat comes back and wraps up Dave’s cast, and they get in the shower. They wash each other down, Karkat washes Dave’s hair and then his own, saying that Dave being able to only use one hand wasn’t very effective—Dave pouted a little about it but Karkat was quick to wipe it off his face with a kiss.

They get out, dry off, dispose of the dripping wet grocery bags and tape, and go and change into soft, comfy clothes. Karkat takes one look at Dave’s bedsheets and scrunches up his nose, and proclaims he is ‘not fucking sleeping in that’.

Karkat changes the sheets while Dave heads out to the kitchen. After all of that, Dave’s light breakfast has worn off and he’s feeling ravenous. Time for attempt number two at eating Karkat’s leftover spaghetti. He pops it into the microwave and leans on the counter drumming a random beat into the countertop while he waits for his food to heat up, mumbling a bunch of random verses under his breath.

-

Dave actually behaves himself in the shower this time, and it’s… sweet. Domestic. Intimate. It makes Karkat’s heart clench, getting to wash Dave’s hair, kiss his pout off his face, orbit around each other and laugh when they bump against one another.

It’s day five. If they stick to the original schedule, Karkat only has another two days here. If it was just about looking after Dave to make sure his concussion doesn’t get worse, Karkat probably could have left after day two or three, honestly. Dave seems perfectly fine, as long as he doesn’t push himself.

Would Dave want him to stay the extra week his roommate is out of town? They’ve been in each other’s space so much that Karkat’s surprised Dave hasn’t needed time to himself, yet. Maybe Karkat shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

He thinks about it as he changes the sheets, bundling them up and tossing them in Dave’s hamper with a grimace. He throws the windows open, too, to air out the smell of sex.

Karkat staying could be a good thing. Life with only one hand is probably going to be difficult without help, and Karkat will be going back to work soon, so it’s not like he’ll be _constantly_ in Dave’s face. And when will he get a chance like this again? Sollux rarely leaves the apartment, always caught up in his various projects and at-home work, and Karkat has no idea what kind of schedule John keeps.

He should stop overthinking it and just fucking ask. He runs a hand through his damp hair and sighs, walking to the kitchen to find Dave standing by the counter, shovelling leftover spaghetti into his mouth. Karkat raises an eyebrow and smiles.

“Hey,” he says, trying not to let his nervousness show. “It’s gonna be a week soon. Do you, uh. I mean, it seems like you can probably get by fine on your own. But do you want me to stay until your roommate comes back?”

_please say yes, please say yes_

-

Dave stares at Karkat for a moment while he chews his bite of spaghetti, then sets his fork down in the bowl.

“Sure, babe, that’d be great,” Dave says, “as long as my place isn’t too outta the way for you to get to your job or whatever. You’ve put yourself out enough as it is.”

Dave walks over and pecks Karkat on the cheek, sparing his boyfriend of spaghetti kisses.

“You know I’m not about to complain about havin’ you around,” Dave says lightly.

He steps back over to his spaghetti and twists another bite of noodles and sauce onto his fork.

“And I’m not just saying that because I don’t know how the fuck I’d get those grocery bags taped onto my arm without your help,” he adds on before popping the noodles into his mouth.

-

Karkat’s shoulders slump in relief. Fuck, was it that easy? What the fuck was he being anxious for? He’s so fucking stupid and overdramatic; of course Dave wouldn’t mind him sticking around. Dave _likes_ him, and Karkat’s been cooking and helping him out.

He gives a weak smile, stepping forward to kiss Dave on the cheek in turn. “Thanks, babe. My job isn’t incredibly far from here.”

Karkat steps back, giving Dave space to eat his food. He should probably eat something, too, but he just wants to be lazy right now.

“Any other plans you have for today that I should know about?” he asks curiously.

-

Dave looks at Karkat with a mischievous smirk.

“I might have a couple,” he says, “I did say I was going to drag it out all day long, wasn’t I? Unless you have something _else_ in mind?”

-

Karkat’s mouth goes dry.

“No,” he says quickly. “Nothing else.”

Dave makes good on his promise. The day is a never ending cycle of food and sex, and Karkat couldn’t be fucking happier. Dave fucks him up against the counter, and Karkat rides him into the sofa. They order pizza and Karkat throws on clothes to answer the door, then immediately shucks them off once the delivery person is gone. 

They eat naked, on the floor, laughing like fools, and Karkat shoves their still unfinished game of Monopoly to the floor so Dave can fuck him on the coffee table, then again in the shower. Karkat manages to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion at the end of the day.

The next two days follow this pattern of hazy bliss. Wake-up blowjobs and sleepy morning sex, Dave makes them coffee and Karkat makes food. They watch movies together and Dave falls asleep on his lap. Karkat regales Dave with an in-depth review of the book Dave gifted him, and Dave doesn’t tell him to shut the fuck up about it once.

Dave shows Karkat his artwork, if it can be called that, and laughs in his face at Karkat’s sheer disgust. He shyly shows Karkat some of his serious work, and Karkat praises Dave until he’s bright red, then he gets on his knees and sucks Dave off. 

Unfortunately, Karkat has to return to work eventually. Time moves even fucking slower than usual, now that there’s a Dave-shaped hole in his life. A few of his friends come in to see him and he tells them to fuck off and gives them free drinks.

Coming ~~home~~ back to Dave’s apartment is the best time of the day, because Dave greets him with a smile and an eager kiss, like a 50’s housewife or something. It’s really fucking sweet, and Karkat never wants this to end.

-

It’s Thursday night, and Karkat and Dave are pressed together on the couch watching some Dane Cook movie on Netflix.

Karkat had a pretty gruelling shift at work, dealing with enough snobby javaheads to make his head spin so fast it could swivel off his neck. He’d burst into the apartment all piss and vinegar, ranting and raving about the audacity of people who belittled food service workers, all while Dave leaned against the kitchen counter watching Karkat pace around the room like a caged animal, offering words of sympathy when he could fit them in between the torrent of words and curses spilling from Karkat’s mouth.

Eventually Karkat trailed off and just stood there quietly simmering, until Dave asked if he wanted to go cuddle up with a movie. Karkat’s features instantly softened, and he nodded.

Knowing Karkat needs to recharge his batteries, Dave has been keeping fairly quiet, not even interrupting the movie with his usual commentary. Even though Karkat’s apparently seen this one dozens of times. The two of them had fallen into an easy groove, knowing when it was time to just shut up for a minute and enjoy each other’s company.

It’s nice. It’s domestic as fuck. It’s perfect.

Too bad all good things had to come to an end.

Dave jolts when he hears the apartment doorknob rattle. It was something that had been the telltale sign of Karkat is home for nearly the last two weeks. But Karkat was here pressed up against him, so now the noise only startles Dave.

Dave whirls his head around as the door opens, and his roommate and best friend comes into the room, a large suitcase in tow and a backpack slung over one shoulder.

John’s large blue eyes, made even larger by his wide rectangular glasses, flicker immediately over to Dave. Who is on the couch cuddling with someone John has never seen before.

“John,” Dave croaks out, “You’re back early.”

John gives him a confused smile, quirking a dark eyebrow that disappears into his black hair.

“I told you I’d be back Thursday, you ding-dong.” John says, with a tone that doesn’t sound surprised in the slightest that Dave forgot.

His gaze flickers to Karkat, then back to Dave.

“Who’s your friend, Dave?”

-

Dave knows exactly how to handle Karkat’s shitty moods and it’s kind of the best thing to have ever happened to Karkat. Dave lets him bitch until his words dry up, then cuddles up to him on the couch and lets Karkat play one of his romcoms that Dave couldn’t give less of a shit about. It’s perfect, and Karkat feels himself unwinding, calming down from his terrible fucking day with his boyfriend pressed against his side.

At least, until Dave’s roommate comes home early and Karkat is entirely unprepared. He thought he’d have at least another day or two to psyche himself up for this, practice introducing himself without looking like an entire fucking fool.

But now this person is standing in front of them, a slightly bewildered smile on his face, and Karkat feels the word _friend_ like a physical blow. John is Dave’s _best friend_ , according to literally everything Dave’s said. Did Dave not tell him about Karkat? Karkat told his friends, and they’ve all been clambering to meet Dave; why wouldn’t Dave do the same?

A niggling, anxious voice in the back of his head says _he’s ashamed of you_ , but Karkat viciously ignores it. He stands up, dislodging Dave, and sticks his hand out, face in its usual neutral scowl.

“I’m Karkat, Dave’s boyfriend,” he introduces himself. “You must be John.”

-

Dave visibly cringes at the way Karkat says _boyfriend_ , like he’s driving a stake into Dave’s chest that he engraved the words _you stupid fuck_ onto.

Fuck. He’s totally gonna get chewed out for that later, isn’t he?

John blinks in surprise as Karkat sticks his hand out, but a less confused and more genuinely enthusiastic smile brightens up his face even more than it already was, as well as showing off his prominent front teeth. John reaches over and takes Karkat’s hand and gives it a hearty shake.

“Wow, hey! That’s right. It’s nice to meet you, Karkat!” John lets go of Karkat’s hand and looks over Karkat’s shoulder at Dave, who has by this point gotten up from the couch and is scratching awkwardly at his neck.

John’s eyes bug out of his head and his jaw drops.

“Holy fuck, dude! Is that—is your _arm broken_??” John cries, jabbing a finger at the big cast on Dave’s arm.

John slaps himself on the forehead with a groan. “Oh, for the love of—seriously, Dave? I can’t leave you alone for a minute!”

John looks over at Karkat, giving him an apologetic expression.

“Boyfriend, huh? Well, good luck with him. You’re gonna need it!” John says, and then instantly laughs heartily at his own joke. “Only kidding, Dave! But seriously, dude. You’re so accident-prone!”

John leaves his bags by the door and walks over to Dave, giving him a further once-over, his lips poking out in a thoughtful frown.

“So, what the hell happened? Are you okay? Well, I mean, obviously not, your arm is fucking broken, but—gah. You know what I mean.”

Dave gives a little shrug. “It’s chill. I’m fine, Egbert, seriously. Busted my elbow and had a concussion, but that’s basically cleared up at this point. Other than a few bruises still clearing up, I’m fine.”

John gives the bruises on Dave’s neck a pointed stare, and Dave instantly stops scratching at his neck, but leaves his hand there to cover the rest of the hickeys underneath it. John gives him a Look, but otherwise says nothing.

John just gives a little sigh, shaking his head and folding his arms. “Broken elbow and a concussion? How’d you manage that? Big fall at the skate park, I guess?”

“Uhh,” Dave says, eloquently.

-

John is very… energetic. It’s interesting, watching him and Dave interact. Karkat hasn’t really seen Dave interact with anybody besides himself, actually, and it’s almost like watching a wall go up between Dave and the rest of the world. His posture changes from his usual welcoming stance to something more standoffish, and Karkat doesn’t know if Dave even realizes.

Part of Karkat is touched, that he gets to see a version of Dave that he doesn’t show to anyone else. Most of him is still hung up on why Dave didn’t tell his best friend that they’re dating.

“I accidentally hit him with my car,” Karkat says bluntly. Fuck, he’s going to have to get used to explaining this, isn’t he? Maybe eventually the embarrassment will wear off. “The hospital wouldn’t release him if he didn’t have someone to keep an eye on his concussion, so I offered.”

He eyes John warily, wondering how he’ll react to this. If he’s pissed on Dave’s behalf Karkat won’t hold it against him.

-

John’s head whips between Dave and Karkat several times before landing back on Karkat, his mouth still hanging open.

“Holy shit!” John finally exclaims. Then he breaks into a toothy grin as he jabs a thumb over his shoulder at Dave. “I’ll bet it was this goof’s fault, huh? Probably came out of nowhere on his board. I’ve told him a thousand times not to ride with his headphones on. He doesn’t even wear a helmet! This was a long time coming.”

He looks back at Dave, and slugs him on the arm. Dave barely feels it, it’s so gentle.

“Hope you learned your lesson, peabrain! You’re lucky Karkat was nice enough to look after your dumb ass. I swear, of all the times for me to visit Dad...I’m glad you’re okay and all, but seriously, smarten the fuck up, dude. You could have been killed!”

“Lesson learned, mom,” Dave says, “No more sweet aerial maneuvers over moving vehicles. Cross my heart.”

John rolls his eyes, looking back over at Karkat. “Well, I hope you can knock some sense into him, Karkat. More than you already did with your car, that is!” John says with a wink.

He heads back over to the door and grabs his bags.

“I’m gonna go throw my stuff in my room,” John says. Then he shoots Dave a look. “If I still have a room here, that is!”

“Nic Cage is still tied up in the closet, right where you left him.” Dave says, “I fed and watered him three times a day. Changed his pee and shit bucket out. Pried his eyes open and played all his movies on repeat like A Clockwork Orange, you know. His usual routine.”

“Great, thanks,” John says, not gracing Dave’s Nic Cage wisecracks with any form of laughter.

Once John is out of sight, Dave looks over at Karkat, and shrinks a little when he sees Karkat’s already looking at him.

“I have no excuse. I’m a ham-brained bonerstooge of a boyfriend who didn’t fucking tell John we were dating.” Dave says quickly, keeping his voice low so John can’t overhear.

“I wasn’t using my phone those first couple of days on doctor’s orders, and then I was honestly pretty preoccupied hanging out with you and, uh—other stuff—to take two seconds to go, ‘oh hey better message John and let him know I’ve got a boyfriend’. Because I was honestly just trying to wrap my head around the concept of even...having a boyfriend in the first place.”

Dave is making a bunch of useless hand gestures with his one hand as he speaks, and it only speeds up and starts gesturing more frantically the more he talks.

“Okay, fuck—I literally just said I have no excuse and then went and started prattling off a bunch of lame-ass excuses like a colossal douche.”

Dave clamps his lips shut to keep from talking himself into the floor even further than he already has.

-

John doesn’t punch him in the throat for grievously injuring his friend. In fact he laughs it off and assumes it was _Dave’s_ fault, and Karkat frowns. It turns into a full on scowl when John talks about _knocking some sense_ into Dave, but he bites his tongue. It’s hard to get a word in edgewise with these two, anyway, and Karkat suddenly feels like he’s intruding.

Dave’s explanation is a relief. He just… forgot, right. Karkat squishes down the doubt that fills him. Dave didn’t tell John about the broken arm and the concussion, either. It’s believable.

“It’s fine, Dave,” he sighs. So what if Dave didn’t tell anyone that they’re dating? It’s not like Karkat hasn’t been kept a secret before. He steps forward and kisses Dave on the cheek.

“Should I leave?” he asks. “Let you and John catch up?”

He doesn’t want to. But now that John’s back Karkat doesn’t have an excuse to stick around. He doubt’s John is looking for another roommate, and Karkat has to go back to his own apartment eventually. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

-

“No!” Dave exclaims, way too loudly.

He clamps his lips shut again, his eyebrows shooting up above his shades and hiding in his bangs. He tries again after a moment, quieter.

“...fuck, I mean—no, Kat, stay.” Dave mumbles.

He ducks his head, tucking his chin into his neck a little. “Please.”

-

That was absolutely not the response Karkat expected. His eyebrows raise in surprise. He moves back into Dave’s space, frowning, and slips a hand around his waist. His other hand finds Dave’s chin and tilts his head, making Dave look at him.

“I’ll stay, baby,” he says softly. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

-

Dave swallows thickly, letting Karkat lift his head up. 

Dave licks his lips, and takes a breath. “Uh, I...” he starts, and then instantly trails off. 

Fuck, his heart is pounding. It hadn’t stopped pounding since the door had startled him. 

“I don’t—“ Dave has to force the words out, feeling like his chest is closing up, “I don’t know.” 

It’s not a lie. He honestly doesn’t know why he’s feeling like this all of a sudden. He should be happy that John is back, that he gets to introduce Karkat to him. 

But he already fucked up out of the gate. He didn’t tell John about Karkat. Karkat told his friends days ago. Every single one of them. Dave doesn’t even have enough friends to count on one hand, and he still didn’t tell a single one. 

And why the fuck not? It’s not like he was ashamed of Karkat or that he was trying to hide the fact they were together. Of course not. 

The hurt in Karkat’s eyes was palpable. The moment John said the word friend, Dave watched it flash over Karkat’s expression. He never wanted to put that look on Karkat’s face ever again. 

Dave lifts his hand and takes Karkat’s wrist and gives it a little squeeze. 

“I don’t want to fuck this up.” he murmurs.


	10. Chapter 10

Dave looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack. Because Karkat offered to leave? He’s not sure. He pulls his wrist from Dave’s grasp, but only so he can lock their fingers together, bringing Dave’s hand to his lips for a kiss.

“You’re not fucking anything up, Dave,” he says. “I’m not mad.”

Hurt? Yes. Insecure as fuck? Obviously. But he isn’t mad at Dave. 

“It caught me by surprise,” he admits. “I thought you would have told him. But it’s okay, he knows now and he didn’t try to kill me for accidentally running your ass over, so I’d say we’re doing pretty fucking well on that front.”

He runs his hand up and down Dave’s back.

“Breathe, baby,” he says. “You’re fine. I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to.”

-

Karkat says he’s not mad, but Dave already knew that. Of course Karkat isn’t mad. Karkat’s hurt. And that’s way worse.

Dave can handle mad. Anger is familiar. Disappointment would even be an improvement.

But hurt? He’s lost. He has no idea what to do.

And now here he is, panicking about it and making Karkat worry about him and take care of him, even though he’s still got that same hurt look in his eyes. But he’s pushing it aside to deal with Dave and his freak out over the fact he put it there in the first place.

He should have told John. Then he wouldn’t have hurt Karkat. And then it wouldn’t have mattered if John came back early (or, right on time apparently, because Dave’s a forgetful shit). Either way, Dave would have been prepared.

But now he’s here with his best friend who has NEVER seen him date anyone before or show any interest in doing so, and the boy who became the exception for all of that. And Dave feels stuck. He has no idea how to traverse this at all. He had no idea it would freak him out like this.

John comes back out, and Dave bounces away from Karkat like they’re both positive magnets. Then he feels instantly shitty about it, his ears burning red with shame. That kind of shit wasn’t going to make Karkat any less hurt.

John just chuckles good-naturedly, because of course he doesn’t care that Dave is gay or that Dave has a boyfriend or any of that. Dave knows that. So why is he acting like this? What the fuck was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just be a nice, normal, good fucking boyfriend for two seconds?

“I’m gonna grab a shower and then probably crash,” John says, “I’m honestly pretty tired from the flight back. You’ll have to regale me with your adventures in the morning. It was nice meeting you, Karkat!”

With that John heads off to the shower. Dave waits until he hears the shower and then he lets out a sigh and smushes his face into Karkat’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me,” Dave says miserably.

-

When John comes back into the room, Dave jerks away from Karkat like he’s been burned, and that… really doesn’t lessen the feeling that Dave is ashamed of him. But he compartmentalizes, because Dave is clearly freaking out. Karkat’s whiny insecure bullshit can be dealt with later, preferably while Dave is asleep.

Karkat grunts out an affirmative to John, and the second the water can be heard Dave is right up next to him again, and Karkat is getting terribly mixed messages. 

“You’re… not comfortable with PDA?” Karkat guesses, trying not to be hurt. “That kind of fucking sucks, but I can suck it up and not cuddle my boyfriend while his roommate is around. That’s okay.”

He runs his fingers through Dave’s hair, trying to be soothing. It more than fucking sucks, honestly, but Karkat isn’t going to force Dave into anything. 

-

Dave makes a frustrated sound, bumping his forehead several times against Karkat’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he groans, “I know he doesn’t give a shit, I don’t give a shit—okay, that’s not true, I give a lot of shits, but—“

Dave groans and shakes his head. “Fuck, I don’t know,” he saying _I don’t know_ a lot and that’s weird but he can’t seem to stop.

“I don’t know why I’m acting like this, I don’t—“ he presses his lips together to stop himself from saying fucking _I don’t know_ again, “I...dude, PDA doesn’t bother me. I let you suck my dick in the back of your car. I was kissing all over your neck in a public park where anyone coulda been walking by. I don’t _care._ I want to do all that stuff, I do, but—“

Dave wraps his arm around Karkat’s waist loosely.

“I’m just...I don’t kn—uuggh,” Dave makes another frustrated growl, “I don’t want to _hurt_ you, man. I’m fucking this up already. M’sorry.”

-

Dave is getting really worked up and Karkat is worried.

“It’s okay, Dave,” he says. “I’m not--I mean, yeah I was hurt. I thought that maybe you would have told your best friend about me after you bothered me to talk to my friends. But it’s not--It’s stupid. I know you didn’t mean it. I was just caught off guard.”

He takes a slow, deep breath. “If you’re not comfortable being physically affectionate around John that’s _fine_ , baby. You’re not fucking anything up. We can work on it, if you want, and if you don’t want to that’s okay, too.”

He rubs his cheek against Dave’s hair, tugging him closer. 

“What do you wanna do, babe?” he asks quietly. “Want to turn in early? Go for a walk? What would help?”

-

Dave winces as Karkat mentions the bit about how Dave had bothered him to talk to his friends about it, only for Dave to be the biggest fucking hypocrite alive and not tell _his_ friends.

“It’s not fucking stupid,” Dave says, “you’re not stupid for being hurt about that, because it was a fucked up and dumbfuck thing of me to do. Or rather not do. Doesn’t matter whether I _meant_ to do anything, it’s just—“

Dave takes a deep breath. He keeps getting riled up. And the fact he keeps losing control is only making him more freaked out because he doesn’t know how to stop it. Karkat’s asking what would help but Dave just...doesn’t know.

He thinks he needs out of the apartment, though. Even though John’s off to bed, he still wants to get away. So Karkat can be alone again. Have the privacy to have what’s clearly a much-needed conversation.

Dave nuzzles his face into Karkat’s neck and clutches at the back of his shirt. Like a scared child during a storm.

God, he’s pathetic.

“Can we go for a walk?” Dave asks, his voice small.

-

Dave tries to reassure him, even while having some sort of breakdown, because he’s sweet. Karkat _knows_ it’s stupid, though. Dave isn’t ashamed of him, isn’t keeping him a secret on purpose; Karkat’s dumb anxieties are getting the best of him and it’s fucking Dave up something fierce. He’ll have to reign it in.

“Of course, baby,” he says, squeezing Dave as tight as he dares. “Let’s get our shoes and go.”

They slip their shoes on and leave the apartment, locking the door behind them. Karkat holds Dave’s hand as they walk down the stairs and outside, where the sky is turning a plethora of colors as the sun sets. Karkat tugs Dave in the direction of the park and they walk in silence for awhile, until Karkat can’t take it anymore.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, giving Dave’s hand a squeeze.

-

Dave squeezes Karkat’s hand back.

“I guess it’s different with strangers,” Dave mumbles, “In every sense. It’s different when strangers see me with you because they don’t know me. It’s different hooking up with strangers because there’s no strings attached. But with my friends, with John—they’ve never...seen me like this. Hell, John didn’t even know I was into dudes until he came back from class early one day while I had a guy over. Never brought anyone back to my apartment to fool around after that, I nearly fucking died of embarrassment. Which I guess is why public sex doesn’t really phase me, ‘cause...that’s kind of all I had, for a long time.”

Dave bumps their shoulders together as they walk. It’s good to be on the move, that always clears his head up. Leave it to Karkat to know what Dave needs even better than he does.

“I guess I don’t want John to think you’re a fucking...phase.” Dave admits, “That you’re just another dude I’m messing around with. And all this dating shit is new to me and these last two weeks have been fun as hell and I’m looking forward to meeting all your friends and I really hope they like me and that I don’t...”

Dave takes a deep breath to start him from rattling off again, then continues.

“Just because I’m your soulmate doesn’t give me a free pass to be a belligerent dickhead who can’t figure out his shit, and hurt you with it over and over,” Dave says. “That’s the last fucking thing I wanna do.”

-

Karkat turns this over in his head as they continue walking.

“I don’t give a fuck what John thinks,” he says eventually. “I don’t plan on going anywhere unless you kick my sorry ass to the curb, so John can think you’re having a really fucking long phase if he wants. And my friends will fucking love you. They’re already close to hunting me down just to meet you. You’ll fit right in, I promise.”

He reaches around and slides his hand into Dave’s back pocket, smiling slightly.

“We’re going to hurt each other, babe,” he says, blunt as ever. “We’re going to fight and bicker. It’s a normal part of being a couple. Nothing is rainbows and sunshine all the time. But we’ll work shit out, and apologize, and probably have amazing makeup sex.”

“Just… talk to me,” he sighs. “About whatever shit you’re anxious about. I want to help, and if we can avoid situations where you flinch away from me when your friend walks into the room, I’d appreciate that.”

-

Dave draws in on himself. “...Sorry.” he mumbles, “I felt bad about that as soon as I did it. And I don’t even know why I did it. I guess I was just on edge from the second he walked in. I wasn’t expecting him to be back.”

Karkat says that they’ll fight, and that it’s normal. Dave doesn’t want to fight. He wishes things could just be like they’ve been, without either of them getting riled up and angry. Dave’s done it twice now. He ruined the mood back when Karkat told him about his abusive exes, and just now when he got spooked by John showing up.

The fact he can’t see this mood swings coming only makes it worse. He’s unpredictable, even to himself, and that’s...scary.

He doesn’t want to hurt Karkat, or push him away just because he can’t have his shit together for one single solitary second.

“I’ll talk to you,” Dave says, “I promise. Even if it doesn’t make sense to me, I’ll just...keep thinking out loud until it does.”

Dave wraps his arm around Karkat’s waist and bumps his head against him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Dave says, “And just—let me say it? Don’t tell me ‘it’s okay’. It’s not. If I do shit that sucks and that hurts you let me know so I can throw myself down at your feet and apologize profusely and then proceed to never fucking do whatever it was ever again.”

-

Karkat has to swallow down the reflexive _it’s okay_. It’s really fucking weird, being the one recieving the apology instead of giving it, and he still doesn’t see the big fucking deal. His feelings got hurt for a few seconds, so what? Dave at his worst still treats him better than any of his exes ever did; Karkat can handle being accidentally slighted while Dave figures himself out.

It’s important to Dave, though, obviously. So Karkat knocks their heads together gently and says, “I forgive you, baby.”

It doesn’t feel like enough, so he adds, “I’ll try to tell you if something you do hurts me, okay?”

That’s a pretty big fucking task for Karkat. Normally he had no problem airing his grievances to anyone who will listen, but he’s still a bit worried about scaring Dave off. But he’ll try, for his boyfriend’s peace of mind.

-

“Thanks, Karks,” Dave says.

He pulls them to a stop so he can turn and press a kiss to Karkat’s lips. Dave pulls away with a smile, and then looks over into the park. There’s a playground in the middle of a large sand pit that is empty considering the time of night.

Dave looks back at Karkat and wiggles his eyebrows. “C’mon.”

He heads off towards the playground, jogging across the sand and clambering up the tiny steps and making his way up to the highest part of the playground. Where there’s a long silver slide. Dave leans against the metal rails, resting his elbow on the bar and his chin in his hand as he grins down at Karkat, who is walking up to the playground and giving Dave a bemused look.

“These things looked so much bigger when I was a kid.” Dave says, “This is my first time on one.”

-

Dave never got to play on a jungle gym or playground, and that breaks Karkat’s heart. If it was anyone else, Karkat would stand aside, arms crossed, and scowl until they were done acting like children, but this is _Dave_. Who never got a childhood, who Karkat falls more and more in love with each day.

So he steps up onto the playset, throwing dignity aside, coming up to stand behind his boyfriend and kiss his neck. 

“Well?” he says. “Are we going to slide down this thing or not?”

Karkat hasn’t been on a playground since he was maybe eleven years old. He’s tempted to get Dave on the merry-go-round and spin it as fast as possible. It’s an experience everyone should have under their belt.

-

Dave grins when he sees that Karkat actually comes up and joins him on the playground instead of just watching from the sidelines. And he grins even wider when Karkat kisses him on the neck.

“Fuck yeah,” Dave says, settling himself down to sit on the top of the slide.

He scoots himself forward, and then slides down—

For all of two seconds. His legs are so long that his feet are more than halfway down the slide while he’s still sitting up at the top. When he scoots forward, he’s down at the bottom in a flash, sitting on the edge of the slide with his shoes dug into the sand.

He stands up and walks back over to the stairs. “Okay, that sucked, but I’m still going again.” he says.

Dave gets up to the top and watches Karkat slide down the slide. He has pretty much the same experience as Dave does. Dave follows close behind, sitting on the top and scooting himself off to slide down.

“Geronimo,” Dave calls, with the least amount of enthusiasm as possible.

-

Karkat laughs at Dave’s unenthusiastic cry, stepping forward so he can lean over and give him a chaste kiss before he has the chance to get off the slide.

“C’mon, the playset is the lamest part,” he says when he straightens up, grabbing Dave’s hand and tugging him along. “The swingset and merry-go-round are where it’s at.”

He leads Dave to the swings and has him sit down. Dave winds his good arm around one of the chains and Karkat says, “legs up, babe.” Dave’s long legs drag along the ground, but once they’re up Karkat can start pushing him. Not too high, since Dave still has an arm in a cast, and Karkat can vividly imagine Dave falling off and breaking any amount of other limbs.

When Dave’s got a decent height, Karkat sits down on the swing next to him. It’s an uncomfortable fit; Karkat’s a big dude, not a small child, and the metal digs into his hips. He ignores it and starts pumping his legs to match Dave. Hopefully the swing won’t snap under his weight and send him plummeting to the ground.

-

Dave laughs as Karkat starts to push him on the swing. This is so fucking childish and dumb, and if people saw two grown men doing this in an empty playground at night they might just think to call the cops on them. But Dave couldn’t give a damn.

With Karkat’s pushing, Dave manages to get some actual air on the swing, pumping his legs to keep up the momentum. He has to hike his legs up as he comes down so his feet don’t drag him to a stop, and it’s awkward to only hold one of the chains, but he manages.

Karkat stops pushing him and gets onto the other swing, and Dave laughs at the sight of his big beefy man of a boyfriend on a child’s swingset. With both of them swinging back and forth, the chains creak in protest and the entire frame of the swingset rattles noisily. It only makes Dave laugh harder.

“We’re gonna fucking break this thing!” Dave calls out.

He pumps his legs harder, trying to get even more air, which makes the chains creak even louder. Eventually he drops down his feet and drags them through the sand, bringing himself to a stop.

“You mentioned a merry-go-round?” Dave asks.

-

Karkat grins as he launches himself from the swing at its highest point, landing on his feet and turning to beam at Dave. If his friends were here they’d never let him hear the end of it, but acting like a child is worth it to hear Dave’s laugh.

“Yeah, c’mon,” he says, grabbing Dave’s hand eagerly. Dave’s concussion is all but gone, so Karkat doesn’t have to worry about making it worse anymore. He leads Dave to the merry-go-round and instructs him to hang on tight.

“Let me know if it’s too fast,” he says, grabbing the bars and starting to run.

It’s a lot easier to push now, and he gets it going a decent speed before he jumps on himself, laughing as the world spins around them. He crawls over to Dave and kisses him with a smile.

“What do you think?” he asks. “Better than the slide?”

-

Karkat jumps off the swing instead of bringing it to a stop with his feet and Dave has to clench his teeth to keep his jaw from smacking into the ground. Karkat comes over and grabs Dave’s hand and pulls him off the swing.

“I’ll have you know, I would have pulled a sweet aerial combo too if I didn’t have this fucking cast on. I totally could have done it anyway, but I didn’t want you to like, freak out or whatever. Just being a good noodle.”

Karkat doesn’t even grace those fucking lies with a response, which is fair. He pulls Dave over to the merry-go-round and Dave climbs on and hangs onto the bar one-handed for dear life as Karkat proceeds to spin him around.

“Whoa, shit!” Dave yelps, grabbing the bar even tighter and planting his feet down to better balance himself.

Karkat jumps on as it continues to spin, laughing loud and sweet, and Dave can’t help but join in. He’ll stay on this thing spinning like a top until he pukes if it means Karkat keeps laughing like that.

He’s grinning like a maniac when Karkat pulls away from the kiss. “Much better,” he says.

He’s only partially talking about the merry-go-round. Because Dave also _feels_ better. His anxiety is completely gone, and he feels relaxed and giddy all at once. The same way he’d felt these last two weeks with Karkat. He’s ready to head back to the apartment and not totally fly off the handle and lose his fucking cool, acting like a fucking spooked deer just because John is in the room.

“Let’s head back,” Dave says, “we never finished the movie.”

Karkat and Dave walk back hand-in-hand to the apartment. John is standing in the kitchen eating a slice of leftover pizza when they come through the door. His hair is still damp from the shower and he’s dressed in Ghostbuster pyjamas.

“Oh, hey! You guys were gone when I got out of the shower. Where’d you go?” John asks through a bite of pizza.

“We went for a romantic evening stroll,” Dave says, “And then goofed off at the park for a bit.”

John raises his eyebrows. “The park? You mean like on the playground?”

“Yeah,” Dave says, grinning, “We damn near broke the swingset, and then spun around on the merry-go-round. It was fuckin’ legit.”

John snorts. “And you still have just one cast on? It’s a miracle.”

“Well, I had my big strong boyfriend there to protect me,” Dave says, nudging Karkat with his elbow.

Dave pecks Karkat wet and loudly on the cheek.

“I’m gonna hit the head, be right back, babe,” Dave says, heading out of the kitchen and down the hall.

John watches him go, taking another bite of cold pizza. He chews it contemplatively as he stares at the spot where Dave rounded the corner out of sight, and then swallows.

“Huh,” John says quietly, almost as though he’s talking to himself, “I’ve never seen him smile like that.”

John looks over at Karkat, blinking rapidly. Then he waves his hand rapidly, a crooked smile on his face. “Ah, not that Dave never smiled! It was just a rare sighting. And also like his face didn’t...know how to do it properly?” John laughs nervously. “Wow, geez, that doesn’t really sound any better, does it? A-anyway, it’s nice to see him looking so happy.”

-

Karkat feels much lighter as they head back to the apartment. Fighting with Dave is a lot different than fighting with any of the other people he’s dated. It still doesn’t sit well with him, leaves a nasty feeling in his chest, but it’s… better. There’s no yelling, no throwing around blame, no open palms flying at his face, and when it’s over they go back to being themselves, laughing and goofing off.

It’s nice. Dave holds his hand back to the apartment, and doesn’t let go when they see John in the kitchen. He even kisses Karkat on the cheek, in full view of his friend, and Karkat’s sure that his expression his besotted and soppy as fuck.

He’s surprised, when John says that Dave rarely smiled. Dave was all smiles around him, whether they be small and sleepy or bright and energetic. Then again, Dave did close himself off the second John got back. Maybe Karkat really was special. It’s a heady thought, being trusted with something Dave keeps even from his best friend.

“Maybe he didn’t have much to smile about,” Karkat shrugs, crossing his arms. His tone is defensive and he berates himself mentally, adding a much more neutral sounding, “I do my best to make him happy.”

-

John finishes off his pizza, popping the last piece of crust into his mouth. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his Slimer-patterned pj pants and smirks amusedly at Karkat.

“Well, it’s nice to know somebody can make that dork stop trying so freaking hard to be Mr. Cool Kid, y’know?”

He takes a hand out of his pocket and brings it up to his mouth and stage-whispers at Karkat. “We all like to let him think we see him as this super chill, put-together dude, but we all know he’s the biggest dweeb out of all of us!”

He winks conspiratorially at Karkat, making a clicking sound with his cheek as he grins mischievously.

“We all try to poke his buttons to see what’ll make the cool kid mask slip off—Rose is the best at getting him flustered. But knowing there’s someone who can make him be himself without any stupid registrations is...”

John trails off, and his smile warms into something actually genuine, the mischievous glint in his eye softens to a pleased twinkle.

“...kind of a huge relief, if I can real-talk you for a minute.”

John steps over and pats Karkat on the shoulder.

“Loosen up, man! You kinda look like you’re ready to attack me, haha.” John says lightly, “I know I bust his balls, but it’s out of love, I swear. It’s just how he and I have always been, nothing but stupid banter between two bros constantly trying to outdo each other’s witticisms. I’m just infinitely better at it than he is, I can’t help it.” John gives a little shrug, feigning a defeated little sigh.

-

Karkat grunts. It’s… kind of hard not to like John. He has a dorky, charismatic air about him. But Karkat’s always been shit at meeting new people and making friends. When he needs people to like him he goes monosyllabic, because otherwise he opens his big mouth and shits all over the possibility.

“Right,” Karkat says, wondering what’s taking Dave so long. He’s probably taking his sweet fucking time so Karkat has to put up with his idiot friend. Dave seems to think Karkat is impossible to dislike, instead of the socially inept fuck up he really is.

“I’m going to make dinner,” Karkat announces, in his politest _fuck off_ tone. He doesn’t wait for John to answer, moving around the kitchen and grabbing ingredients. He’ll make enough for John, too, because he’s not rude as fuck. They have leftover pizza, which John already helped himself to, but Karkat refuses to let Dave live off of that when Karkat can make him healthy food.

-

John watches as Karkat starts moving around the kitchen, blinking in surprise.

Dave comes back into the kitchen and John looks over at Dave and smirks.

“Nice to have someone around who actually cooks with the ingredients I buy,” John says, “I’d been prepared to come home and throw out everything in the fridge.”

“Not only that, but he actually makes the food _taste good_. Like, with flavours and stuff. Shit’s wild,” Dave retorts.

“Hey! I’m a decent cook!” John cries, “I just follow the recipes on the cards.”

“Yeah, and that’s all you do, dude,” Dave says, “I’m sure your Nana and Dad just use those things as a guide and then add their own flare to the dishes. Unless your entire family literally just makes everything taste bland as fuck.”

“Well, if you really feel that strongly about it, _David_ , see if I ever cook you another meal again!” John says indignantly, hands on his hips.

Dave puts a hand to his forehead dramatically as he walks across the kitchen. “Oh no, how will I ever go on without another one of your tasteless concoctions?” Dave says woefully.

Then he grins, and thumps Karkat on the back. “Oh, right, I know. I’ll just get my super talented chef of a boyfriend cook for me instead.”

-

Karkat rolls his eyes as Dave talks him up.

“He’s exaggerating,” he tells John. “I’m mediocre at best. Dave will just eat anything.”

Karkat just went grocery shopping, because they were running low on food, which means he has plenty of options to choose from. He decides to make creamy tomato pasta with spinach and chicken, since it’s pretty simple.

He and Dave fall easily into their rhythm, with Karkat asking Dave to do simple tasks while he cooks. John watches from the sidelines, eyebrows raised, and Karkat wants to tell him to either help out or fuck off, but he holds his tongue.

“You should taste the stuff my dad makes,” Karkat tells Dave. “He doesn’t cook often because he’s busy with work and shit, but when he does it’s fucking incredible.”

His hand stills a moment after he speaks, eyes going wide.

“Oh fuck,” he says. “I never told my dad!”

He never told Kankri, either, but Kankri can get fucked. Karkat’s dad, though, will bitch at him endlessly about how he wasn’t the first person to know that Karkat found his soulmate.

-

John watches Dave and Karkat cook for a while, looking completely stunned.

“Holy shit, this smells awesome,” John says, “Does your boyfriend want to move in, Dave?”

Dave laughs. “Hear that, babe? Told ya John would be on board to have a live-in chef,” Dave says, bumping their shoulders together. “We should get your dad in on the lease, too. Rent would be dirt fuckin’ cheap if we split it three ways.”

“If Karkat’s dad is even better than Karkat, then I will gladly sleep on the fucking couch,” John says.

“It’s unanimous, Karks, start packing your shit,” Dave says.

-

Karkat cracks a smile. It’s small, but it’s the first one around John. Dave can make him feel better no matter the situation, it appears.

“I think Sollux might be a bit pissed if he suddenly had to pay the entire rent,” he says. He doesn’t admit that he would gladly move in with Dave, if he really wanted him to. It’s been two weeks; that might be taking things a bit fast. 

Though soulmates have been known to get married the day after their words show up, Karkat would rather wait. The past two weeks have been absolute bliss, but he doesn’t want to take over Dave’s life and wear out his welcome, especially not while they’re still unsure if the bond is requited. 

When dinner is done, Karkat divides the food up into three servings, passing a plate to both Dave and John.

“Do you want to watch the movie with us?” Karkat asks politely, glancing at Dave and hoping it’s okay with him. “We can start it over.”

-

“You can just play from where you left off, it’s cool,” John says with a smile.

The three of them head into the living room. There’s only the one couch to sit at, and Dave takes a seat in the middle. Karkat sits on his right, and John to his left. Karkat grabs the remote and plays the movie, and they all tuck into their food.

John takes one bite, groans, and then looks over at Karkat and Dave. “Okay, Dave, I admit defeat. Karkat’s cooking beats the _shit_ out of mine.”

“Fucking told you, dude. My man can _cook_.”

They scarf down the rest of their food in silence as the movie plays, the true sign of a fully-enjoyed meal. John takes everyone’s plates when they’ve been cleared off and heads into the kitchen to wash the dishes.

Dave leans against Karkat’s shoulder and presses a kiss to Karkat’s jaw.

“Thanks for dinner, baby,” Dave says, continuing to pepper little kisses along Karkat’s chin.

-

Karkat’s cheeks burn at Dave calling him _my man_ , hiding a smile by shoving food into his mouth. When Dave presses kisses to his face Karkat can’t hide it anymore.

“Thanks for helping,” he returns, turning his head to kiss the tip of Dave’s nose. He wraps his arm around Dave’s shoulder and tugs him in close, nuzzling into his hair.

“‘M gonna miss this,” he sighs. 

-

Dave smiles as Karkat pulls him against him, tucking his head against Karkat’s warm chest.

“You make it sound like you’re never gonna get to come back,” Dave says, laughing weakly, “Don’t be silly, baby. You can come over as much as you want. And I know John was half-joking about you moving in, but like, I’m certainly not opposed to the idea. I know you can’t exactly leave Sollux in the lurch like that, though. But I won’t complain about extended sleepovers.”

Dave turns his head and kisses Karkat’s collarbone through his sweater.

“You know I love having you here,” he says softly.

-

Karkat’s heart stutters. He can’t ask Dave to move in with him, he _can’t_. It’s way too fucking soon, and John and Sollux both depend on them for half the rent, and Dave might still decide Karkat isn’t worth it, if his cast comes off and Karkat’s words aren’t on his arm. 

“I love being here,” Karkat says, kissing the top of Dave’s head. He chews on his lip, considering. “It won’t be the same, though. Maybe… If you want, once your cast comes off, we can talk about looking at apartments?”

He rubs Dave’s shoulder nervously, needing something to do with his hands. It’s fine if Dave says no, it’s _fine_. But Karkat is thinking about his bed and how empty it will feel without Dave beside him, and how watching movies seems suddenly a lot more boring, and how there won’t be anymore kisses at the door when Karkat gets back from work, and life appears far more bleak.

-

Dave’s heart kicks up into double time at Karkat’s words.

Apartment-hunting with Karkat?

He and Karkat having a place of their own. No more Dave’s apartment, or Karkat’s apartment. It would be _their_ apartment.

...Their _home_.

Dave can’t believe he’s even considering something like _moving in together_ after they haven’t even been going out for a month at this point.

Then again, their relationship had been pretty unorthodox since the very beginning. And the concept of time was whack as hell, anyways. Time was irrelevant. Who fucking cared when they kissed, or fucked, or moved in together, or said I lo—

Dave’s racing heart stops, then starts beating in triple time.

“Yeah, baby,” Dave says, “I’d be down for that.”

-

Karkat’s hand stops moving, stunned. 

“Really?” he asks, a smile breaking out across his face. He hides it in Dave’s hair, snuffling in the smell of his own conditioner. “Fuck, okay. That’s great. Let’s do that.”

He feels like laughing. Dave wants to _move in with him_. God, everything is so fucking perfect. 

“I definitely have to tell my dad,” he notes. “He’s going to call me a fucking idiot but he does that anyway.”

-

“Does he live in the city?” Dave asks.

He wonders what Karkat’s dad is like. Not to mention his brother. Karkat’s only talked about Kankri a little bit, and hasn’t said anything about his dad until just now when he mentioned he could cook.

Dave wants to meet Karkat’s family. Wants to know everything there is to know about Karkat. He wants to gather it all greedily into his arms and run off into the night like a thief hoarding a precious jewel.

“It’d be nice to meet him sometime, if he lives close by.” Dave says, tucking his head a little deeper against Karkat.

Fuck it, right? They’re already talking about moving in together. So what’s so bad about mentioning meeting Karkat’s dad? He’s going to eventually, right? May as well put it out into the universe that he’s down for it.

-

Karkat shakes his head. 

“He lives about two hours away,” he explains. “I wanted to be independent and shit when I moved out, didn’t want to be _too_ close by. And Sollux already lived here and was looking for a roommate who could put up with the fact that he’s a fucking rat in a wig, so I moved here.”

God, Dave wants to meet his dad already? Karkat doesn’t have a single problem with that.

“My dad is going to fucking love you,” Karkat assures him. “He’s a grouchy old man but you’ll win him over no problem.”

 _Just like you did me_ , he thinks.

“I usually visit him on holidays, but once I tell him about you he’ll probably drive here himself if I don’t agree on a set date to introduce you,” he admits. “Are you sure? I can tell him to fuck off for awhile.”

-

Dave grins. So Karkat gets his grouchiness from his old man, huh? There was something pretty cute about that.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Dave says, “And I’m not just saying all this because I want to try the man’s cooking...though I won’t lie, that is a part of it.”

Dave kisses under Karkat’s ear.

“I’ll butter him right up like a croissant,” Dave promises.

-

“If you leave me because my dad’s a better cook I’ll kill you,” Karkat says, tilting his head, stretching his neck out invitingly. Maybe it’s a bad idea to encourage neck kisses right now, with John in the other room, but Karkat couldn’t give less of a fuck.

-

Dave snickers a little into Karkat’s neck at Karkat’s comment. “Nah. I’m happy with Mr. Vantas Jr.”

Karkat tilts his head, giving Dave more access to his neck, so Dave peppers little butterfly kisses from below Karkat’s ear and down to the collar of his shirt, then up again.

Karkat’s neck was all cleared up from his hickies. Dave really ought to fix that. He didn’t want Karkat covered in them when he had to go to work, though. Dave would have to put them out of sight. It didn’t matter if anyone else knew they were there, as long as Karkat knew.

John comes back out from the kitchen, and when he sees Dave necking with Karkat on the couch he freezes in place, then rolls his eyes with an exasperated shake of his head. Oh, boy. This was going to be a frequent occurrence, wasn’t it?

“I’m headed to bed now,” John says, “...don’t fuck on the couch.”

“Too late,” Dave calls out, still kissing down Karkat’s neck.

John’s drawn-out groan of despair fades as he walks down the hallway to his room, shutting his door with finality behind him.

“Alone again,” Dave murmurs into Karkat’s ear, “How do you wanna celebrate, baby?”

-

Karkat laughs as John leaves the room. He and Dave have fucked in every room of the apartment already, with the exception of John’s room and John’s room alone.

“I think sex might be off the table tonight, babe,” Karkat says regretfully. “You know I’m loud as fuck. Surprised we haven’t had a neighbor pounding on the door already to bitch us out. Don’t think your roommate would appreciate that.”

Despite his words, he doesn’t stop Dave from nipping at his ear or continuing to kiss up and down his neck. He tugs Dave all the way into his lap, hands resting on his ass. He gives it a little squeeze and leans up to kiss along Dave’s jaw.

“Maybe I should darken those hickies of yours up a bit before I go,” he contemplates. Dave will have to return to work soon, surely. Will he get in trouble for having his neck marked up? Karkat absolutely would, unfortunately, but Dave seems to think he has the best boss in the entire fucking world. And maybe he does; if _Karkat_ had to take an impromptu two week vacation, he’d be fired on the spot, doctor’s orders or not.

-

Karkat pulls Dave into his lap, and Dave makes a pleased little noise as Karkat squeezes his ass. He rolls his hips back into the touch, and then forwards again to grind their dicks together teasingly as Karkat kisses along his jaw.

Dave hums a little as Karkat mentions marking him up. While he’s been holding off on marking up Karkat’s neck since he’s gone back to work, Karkat has done the complete opposite, almost like he’s making up for the lack of hickies Dave’s given him by _covering_ Dave in them.

Dave doesn’t give a shit. And even once he goes back to work, he’s sure Roxy will just cackle at him and ask him something cheeky like if he ‘had a good vacation’.

“Be my guest, baby,” Dave says, tilting his head back invitingly. “Maybe if you keep your mouth busy, it’ll keep you quiet enough for me to ride you into the couch.”

-

“We can hope,” Karkat deadpans. He’s not about to say no to such an enticing invitation, so he licks a stripe up Dave’s neck and gets to work reapplying the marks that have dared to fade slightly. Fuck, he loves that Dave likes this, that he’ll let Karkat cover him head to toe in bites and bruises.

He squeezes Dave’s ass again, a little harder, urging him to thrust forward as Karkat attacks his throat. His hands come around to start unbuttoning Dave’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and running his palms down Dave’s front reverently.

It’s only been two weeks, but Karkat likes to think Dave’s already started to put on some weight, thanks to Karkat’s cooking and insistence that he eats regularly. Dave forgets to eat sometimes, when he’s buried in a project. He’s apparently got a metabolism that anyone would kill for, but skipping meals certainly doesn’t help.

“Gonna keep me quiet, baby?” he asks, pulling away from Dave’s neck and eyeing it critically. He nods, satisfied, and leans back in to mouth at Dave’s collarbone. “I can think of a few things that will keep my mouth busy. Gonna make me suck on your fingers? Gag me? Or maybe just kiss me ‘til I’m breathless. I’m all yours, baby; tell me what to do.”

Letting Dave boss him around is still new, but Karkat is finding it easier every time. It helps that Dave clearly enjoys it.

-

“Oh, fuck, baby—“ Dave whispers, biting his lip to hold back a moan as he rolls his hips, grinding his quickly-hardening cock against Karkat’s. “Shit, hang on—“

Dave slides off his shades and sets them aside on the armrest. Dave’s shirt slips off his shoulders as he leans back, letting Karkat have complete access to his neck and chest to mark up as he pleases.

Karkat keeps kissing and biting over his neck and collarbone until Dave is panting, heady and wanting, his cock achingly hard and pressing up against his pants. Dave bites down hard on his lip when Karkat’s tongue swipes across his nipple.

“Kiss me, baby,” Dave whines softly, “gonna have to keep me quiet, too.”

-

Karkat adores how reactive Dave is, how he falls to pieces with the lightest touch. Loves the sounds he makes as Karkat plays with his nipples and tugs his hair and touches everywhere but his dick. It really fucking sucks, actually, that they have to be quiet, because Karkat greatly enjoys Dave’s honeyed voice dripping into his ear, lowly drawling out all the things he wants to do to Karkat.

He captures Dave’s mouth with his own, wet and sloppy, and swallows down Dave’s moans. His fingers pick up where his tongue left off, rolling Dave’s nipple between them as Dave shudders in his lap.

Karkat pulls back, panting, and pops the button on his pants. “Still wanna ride me into the couch, sweetheart?”

-

Dave moans into the kiss as Karkat presses his lips firmly to Dave’s, shudders flickering up his back as Karkat pinches and rolls his nipples between his fingers.

When Karkat pulls away, Dave is breathless and flushed, and Dave has to bite back another groan just from the sight of Karkat unbuttoning his pants because fuck that’s a sexy sight.

“God, yes,” Dave breathes, shuffling himself out of Karkat’s lap.

Karkat pulls down his zipper and pulls down his pants and boxers, releasing his hard cock. Dave’s mouth waters as he sinks down in front of the couch and grabs the base of Karkat’s cock.

“First I’m gonna get you nice and wet,” Dave says, licking his lips and looking up at Karkat through his lashes as he leans towards Karkat’s dick. “So put your fingers in your mouth and try and keep quiet, okay, baby?”

Then Dave wraps his lips around the head of Karkat’s cock, suckling for a moment, swirling around his tongue, and then he sinks down.

Two weeks had given him plenty of time to practice, and now Dave could get Karkat’s cock to the back of his throat on his first try—and without his eyes watering, thank you very much.

Dave groans at the feeling of his mouth being filled with his boyfriend’s dick, letting go of the base so he can teach over and grab Karkat’s free hand and rest it on the top of his head. Then, he starts to bob up and down, making sure to get Karkat’s dick good and lubed up with his mouth before he rides him.

-

Karkat immediately shoves his fingers in his mouth, biting down when Dave sinks to the base of him. Dave’s mouth was deadly enough when he didn’t have any practice under his belt; Karkat doesn’t stand a fucking chance, now.

He grips his fingers tightly in Dave’s hair, but doesn’t try to control the speed as Dave bobs his head. His fingers do little to quiet the moans building in his throat, and he swallows the noises down, closing his eyes, because the image of Dave’s lips stretched around him would be too much.

It’s not long before his hips are thrusting up of their own accord, fucking him as far as he can go into Dave’s throat. He removes his fingers from his mouth, panting.

“Baby, c’mon,” he whispers, or tries to. He lightly tugs at Dave’s hair. “If you keep this up I’ll cum down your throat.”

Not that he’d have a problem with that, but he wants to be inside Dave, kissing the sounds out of each other’s mouths when they cum.

-

Dave pulls off from Karkat’s cock as Karkat pulls gently on his hair to coax him away. As much as he’d love for Karkat to cum down his throat, he’d much rather have his boyfriend cum inside of him as he fucks him slow and deep into the couch cushions.

Dave rises to his feet to yank down his shorts and boxers, letting his hard cock spring free. He kicks the bottoms off to the side and then crawls back into Karkat’s lap as he puts his middle and ring finger into his mouth and sinks them down to the knuckles.

Dave reaches back and fingers open his own hole as he leans forwards and presses his lips to Karkat’s. He doesn’t need too much prep (they’ve been going at it like freaking rabbits lately) but it always helps, considering Karkat’s girth.

Dave pulls his fingers free, and then grabs the base of Karkat’s wet cock and lines it up with his entrance. He starts to lower his hips, slowly pressing down until the head of Karkat’s cock pushes past his tight, hot rim and inside of him. Dave lets out a low, throaty groan as Karkat’s length fills him up, holding in a breath while he continues to lower himself down.

Dave feels a moan building up, so he surges forward and presses his lips to Karkat’s desperately the moment he’s fully seated on Karkat’s cock. Once Karkat’s bottomed out and Dave has a moment to adjust to the wonderful stretch, Dave pulls away from Karkat’s mouth and softly, but deeply, rolls his hips.

-

Karkat never fucked anyone without a condom before Dave. His dad beat it into his head that condoms are a must; he didn’t want to deal with unplanned pregnancies or STDs. But Karkat trusts Dave when he says he’s clean, and _god_ is the sensation fucking fantastic.

Dave is so tight and warm around him, seated in Karkat’s lap like he was born to be there, canting his hips and shoving his tongue in Karkat’s mouth. Karkat hungrily swallows his moan, gripping Dave’s hip tight and dragging fingernails down his back, letting his eyes flutter shut at the heat squeezing his cock.

He nips at Dave’s lip as he pulls away to quietly say in Dave’s ear, “So damn amazing, baby. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

Dave likes praise, and Karkat likes the way he squirms on his cock as he lays it on thick. 

-

Dave presses his lips together tightly as he holds back a whine, his hips grinding down against Karkat with Karkat’s sweet words filling his ears.

“Baby...” Dave whispers, trying desperately to be quiet. He can only manage single words, not trusting himself with anything else.

Dave keeps up the seated grind for a moment longer, before he eventually lifts his hips, pulling Karkat halfway out. He presses his lips to Karkat’s again for the thrust downward, groaning softly against Karkat’s mouth. He pulls away and presses his lips right against Karkat’s ear.

“Fill me so good, baby,” Dave whispers, moaning quietly as he begins a slow rise and fall of his hips. “Love getting to ride you, fill myself up nice and full on your thick, gorgeous cock.”

If Karkat was gonna be unfair and make it hard for Dave to be quiet with all his sweet-talking, Dave could play that game, too.

-

Karkat has to bring a hand to his mouth, biting hard into a knuckle as he tries to keep quiet. Dave is so fucking good at dirty talk and he loves complimenting Karkat’s dick, for some reason. It shouldn’t be hot but it _is_.

When he thinks he has a better handle on himself he takes his hand away and buries his head in Dave’s neck as his boyfriend rocks down onto him.

“Mm, know you like my dick, baby,” he says, punctuating his words with wet, open mouthed kisses to Dave’s throat. “Look so gorgeous, bouncing on my cock, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you in front of a mirror, one day. Let you see how pretty you look.”

His hips thrust shallowly, meeting Dave on every drop down. He bites into Dave’s shoulder to keep back a loud whimper.

-

Heat flushes deeply through Dave from the praise, making his entire body convulse with shudders. He leans backwards, arching his back to give Karkat a better view of his chest and stomach as they roll with his thrusts.

Dave puts his arm behind him to steady himself, grabbing at Karkat’s knee as he starts to bounce faster, desperate to hear Karkat say more nice things. If he likes how Dave looks riding him then he’ll put on a show, just for him.

Dave swallows thickly around the moan building up at the thought of Karkat fucking him in front of a mirror. Getting to see his own flushed, aroused face would be...embarrassing, but also really fucking hot. Maybe hot _because_ it was embarrassing? Ugh. Maybe.

Dave is going to get loud if he keeps this position up, so he lets go of Karkat’s knee and presses himself against Karkat’s chest, burying his hot face into Karkat’s warm, soft neck.

-

Karkat’s mouth goes dry as Dave leans back, watching the line of his body undulate as he fucks himself on Karkat’s dick. Fuck, _fuck_. One day Karkat is going to use some of those toys Dave has in his nightstand, set Dave up so he can’t fucking move, and Karkat is going to sit back and _watch_ for hours.

“That’s right, baby,” Karkat says, hushed and reverent, running a hand from Dave’s stomach to his chest and back down again. “Let me see you. Love looking at you, honey, prettiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

His heart melts as Dave curls back into him, hiding his face in Karkat’s neck. He runs a warm hand up and down Dave’s back, gasping as Dave continues to roll his hips deliciously. 

“S-so fucking good to me, baby,” he whispers. “Don’t f-fucking deserve you.”

His hands grip Dave’s ass, urging him on faster. He’s starting to get close, he can feel it, but he needs more.

-

They haven’t fucked soft and slow like this since the first time Dave topped for Karkat.

Everything after that had been frantic and hot and messy. It was fun and silly, hot and heady, fast and rough. Kissing and licking and nipping and biting and laughing. Enjoying their freedom to explore one another all over the apartment, as often and as loudly as they desired.

Now, they’re forced to be quiet. They have to keep their voices down to hushed whispers, keep their movements to a minimum despite the rising heat so that their skin doesn’t slap loudly together, a dead giveaway. It elicits a certain fervent passion from the moment that otherwise might not exist. Any other time Dave would just throw his head back and roll his body and put on a show for his boyfriend, moaning loudly and letting all kinds of filthy words fall from his lips.

But instead he’s curled up close against Karkat as Karkat gently strokes his back and whispers softly into his ear as they both desperately try to hold back their moans. Dave whimpers when Karkat squeezes Dave’s ass tightly, and Dave grinds against him more insistently.

Dave can feel a hot coil burning in his gut, and knows his release is close, nearly on its edge. How could he not be, with Karkat filling him up so perfectly full while touching him so softly, whispering such sweet words into his ear.

Dave cants his hips frantically, gasping against Karkat’s neck as he slaps his hips down and Karkat’s cock presses against his sweet spot with every downward thrust.

“F-fu—uck, b-ab-yy,” Dave’s voice breaks with the effort it takes not to cry out as he continues to urgently bounce his hips, taking Karkat all the way inside again and again and again. Dave grabs at Karkat’s shirt and yanks it upward until it’s coiled up above Karkat’s pecs.

Stars flicker across Dave’s vision, his mouth hangs open but no sound comes out. His legs twitch and shudder and he drops down onto Karkat’s hip once more as he cums.

Hot streaks of white splatter across Karkat’s stomach as Dave’s cock pulses, Dave muffling his moans into Karkat’s neck.

“K-Karkat, Karkat,” Dave gasps, breathing hot against Karkat’s neck. “B-ba-by—I—“

“—lo-ve yo-u—“

-

Dave is beautiful and handsome and gorgeous at any time of day, doing any activity. When he just woke up, or he’s lost in music or even just staring blankly off into space, he’s still the most attractive person Karkat’s ever laid eyes on. But Karkat thinks he’s at his most beautiful like this, with his hair fucked up and his face red, lips swollen and kiss-bruised, mouth open and eyes clouded over with pleasure.

Karkat thrusts up into him, fast and hard, not caring about the slap of skin in these last few moments, until he follows Dave, hand shooting up to cover his mouth and muffle the long, loud moan that tears free of him.

He goes lax, falling limp against the couch, and breaths, listening to Dave’s gasping breaths and quiet words as they come back to earth. Then Dave whispers out a broken _love you_ , and Karkat tenses. Was it just the euphoria talking? Was it sincere? 

Please let it be sincere.

“Dave,” he says softly, gently manhandling Dave so he’s sitting up, looking Karkat in the eye. Karkat brushes sweaty blond hair from Dave’s forehead and cups his cheek. “Baby, did you mean that?”

-

Dave feels Karkat’s body seize up as the words spill from his mouth. Then he’s gently pulling Dave away from his chest so he can look Dave in the eye. As he cups Dave’s cheek as asks if Dave was being serious, Dave is left in awe as he looks at the boy underneath him. For a moment, he’s speechless. Too fucked out and breathless to find the coherency for words.

So he just stares. Takes in all of Karkat’s features. His large, dark eyes. So deep and thoughtful, looking like they’re always searching. They bore back into Dave’s now, wide and vulnerable. Maybe even a bit fearful.

Karkat wears all his emotions openly. He’s expressive in his body language and facial expressions—Dave doesn’t have to be a mind reader with Karkat, he doesn’t have to pick him apart or try and tread lightly to figure out his next course of action. He just looks at Karkat, and he knows.

He knows.

“Yeah,” Dave says quietly, “Yeah, Karkat, I did.”

-

Dave says _yeah_ , soft and serious, like he’d never, ever joke about this or yank Karkat around or lead him on. He’d never even consider it, Karkat knows, so different from anyone else he’s dated.

He feels a large, beaming smile split his face, so wide it hurts. He lets out a loud, happy laugh, not giving a single fuck if it disturbs John in the other room. 

Karkat moves, turning, laying Dave out on the couch and straddling him, leaning over to kiss him until he’s lightheaded. He rests their foreheads together and their noses touch, so he moves his head from side to side, rubbing them against each other.

“I love you too, baby,” he says, happiness bubbling inside him, threatening to overflow. His eyes feel wet, and when he blinks his tears drip onto Dave’s face.

Dave _loves_ him. Dave is _in love_ with him. He and Dave are _in love_.

-

Karkat smiles, and it lights up his entire face in a way none of his smiles ever have before, and Dave feels the air get knocked from his lungs from the sight.

God, Karkat’s fucking beautiful.

Karkat laughs, and then he’s turning Dave over onto his back and Karkat kisses Dave until Dave is laughing, too. Until they can’t kiss anymore, panting and laughing softly, their noses brushing against one another instead.

Karkat says _I love you too_ , and Dave’s mirth softens, his expression turning to one of awe as he stares up at Karkat. Dave feels one of Karkat’s warm tears hit him on the cheek, and he reaches up and swipes under Karkat’s eye gently with the knuckle of his index finger.

Karkat really is cute when he cries.

Karkat’s tears keep dropping onto his face, one of them rolling down into his hairline by his ear, tickling at Dave’s skin. Dave wipes it away. He blinks, and his lashes are wet.

Oh. They weren’t Karkat’s tears, after all.

-

Dave is crying, too, and Karkat doesn’t feel like such an idiot for it. He presses his lips to the corners of Dave’s bright eyes, kissing his tears away, until he remembers that he’s covered in cum, his dick is still out, and Dave is naked, save for his open shirt. Karkat lets out a semi-hysterical giggle, butting his head under Dave’s chin.

“We should get cleaned up,” he whispers. “Before you fucking leak all over the couch.”

The couch has already sustained a few mysterious stains while Karkat’s been here, and if Dave’s roommate has any brains at all he won’t ask about them.

He kisses Dave again, murmuring a soft, “love you,” against his lips, then peels them apart, grimacing at the feeling. He tucks himself back in his pants and wipes his face, smiling down at his boyfriend.

-

Dave grins sappily as Karkat kisses his face all over, kissing away his tears, whispering _love you_ against Dave’s lips, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to say. Like he’s been dying to say it for so long that now he’ll just say it as much as he can.

Dave understands how that feels.

“Take a bath with me?” Dave asks, hopeful and a bit sheepish, “I don’t think I can stand in the shower.”

-

Karkat grins, wide and mischievous. 

“Of course, baby,” he says, and leans down. He plucks Dave up in a bridal carry like he weighs nothing at all, just like he did when they first met, but with a lot less panic and broken bones.

Karkat gives Dave’s temple a loud smeck of a kiss as he walks to the bathroom and sets him on the side of the tub. He helps Dave out of his shirt, and then he’s sitting, entirely naked, on display for Karkat to admire. And admire he does, taking a step back and looking him up and down with a smile that grows wider as Dave blushes.

“You should get the water going,” he says. “I still can’t get it a decent fucking temperature on my own.”

-

Dave isn’t expecting Karkat to pick him up, so he makes a small surprised sound at the sudden bridal carry, but he’s quickly melting into it, swooning over how easily Karkat is able to manhandle him. Also, it’s more than a little hot that Karkat’s fully clothed but Dave is still only wearing an open shirt. Dave always had a thing for that kind of imbalance. He and Karkat should really do more with that. Part of the reason he came as quick as he did from riding Karkat just now was due to the fact he was almost fully naked, and Karkat was practically fully clothed.

Karkat carries him into the washroom and sets Dave down on the edge of the tub, and then Karkat just...stands back and looks at Dave. His eyes are unabashedly scanning Dave up and down, and Dave tucks his chin down with a dark blush, suddenly bashful under Karkat’s gaze.

Karkat asks him to start the water, so Dave shakes himself out of his shy spell and twists around to start the water, checking the temperature with his hand until it feels right and then plugging the drain and letting the tub fill.

Karkat had decided to keep the roll of tape and a couple of plastic bugs under the bathroom sink for easy access. While the tub fills, Karkat pulls them out and makes quick work of wrapping up Dave’s arm. He’s got it down to a science by this point, wrapping it all up snugly in less than a minute. When he’s finished, he sets aside the roll of tape and leans his hands on the edge of the tub to kiss Dave slow and soft. They keep these lazy, sweet kisses until the bath is full, and then Dave shuts off the water.

He gets to sit and watch as Karkat strips off all his clothes, so now it’s Dave’s turn to ogle at his boyfriend.

Karkat steps over to him once he’s completely stripped down, and pulls Dave up to his feet. Then Karkat steps into the tub and sits down, with Dave close behind.

Dave didn’t completely fill the bath, just putting in enough water to submerge their lower halves. But he’s still able to keep his arm at rest, leaning against his chest, without submerging the cast into the water. Even though it’s wrapped up, it was probably still not a good idea to just let it sit in the water like that.

Dave leans back against Karkat’s chest and Karkat wraps his arms around Dave’s waist and kisses Dave’s shoulder. Dave hums contentedly, taking Karkat’s left wrist and pulling it up so Dave can see the words on Karkat’s forearm.

The soulmark has gotten much darker by this point, standing out against Karkat’s skin, no longer faded and hardly noticeable. Dave leans forward and presses a kiss to the letters, until his mouth has covered each one.

He’s never kissed Karkat’s soulmark before.

But, after having just confessed, it feels only right to do so.

_I don’t care if I don’t have your words on my arm._

_I love you, whether you’re my soulmate or not. And that’s enough for me._

-

Karkat still isn’t comfortable with Dave seeing him entirely naked. He’s still waiting for Dave to notice the pudge around his stomach, the stretch marks and love handles and flab; for Dave to tell him to work out more, or eat less, or any other such comment. But every time his bare body is greeted with a hungry look, dark eyes roaming him up and down, and it gets easier, slowly but surely.

Dave fits perfectly with him in the bath. It’s a tight fit, with the two of them, but it’s soft and intimate and everything Karkat has ever wanted. He’s never done this before. He’d thought he’d had all his firsts already, but Dave keeps surprising him.

When Dave kisses his soulmark, Karkat feels his eyes tear up again. It tingles all up and down his arms, feels like his nerves are standing on end. His arm tightens around Dave’s waist and he hides his face in his shoulder, sniffling and pressing kisses to his skin.

He knows Dave thinks he doesn’t have a soulmate, because of some curse on his family. That he doesn’t deserve one, maybe. But Karkat’s the one who doesn’t deserve _him_. Dave is… everything. He’s the exact opposite of everyone Karkat sought out; he’s completely unexpected and _perfect_ in the way he compliments Karkat. Karkat can only hope he does the same.

“ _Baby_ ,” he whispers, nuzzling into Dave’s shoulder. “I love you.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of saying that.

-

Karkat starts to cry again, Dave can feel the warm, wet tears on his shoulder as Karkat nuzzles against him. Dave wraps Karkat’s arm back around his waist, holding it there with his own arm pressed over top of it. He rubs his thumb gently along the soulmark.

Dave turns his head so he can press a kiss into Karkat’s hair. “I love you too, beautiful.”

Dave leans his head against Karkat’s, a soft smile on his face. He’s feeling incredibly calm from the afterglow of their sex, the heat of the bath, and the warmth of Karkat’s body pressed against his own. This is all so incredibly intimate, the most vulnerable and raw Dave has ever been with anyone. But with Karkat, none of it terrifies him. If anything, he just wants to open up more. He wants to pull open his chest and give Karkat enough room to crawl inside of him and curl up around his heart, protecting it forever.

...Fuck. Was he always such a sap? Maybe Karkat was rubbing off on him. Not that Dave cared in the least.

“I’m sure glad the first thing I said to you wasn’t a bunch of gibberish nonsense garbage. At least concussed me had enough wits about him to lay down the cold hard facts by popping right outta the gate with _you’re beautiful_. I wish I could go back in time so I could give myself a thumbs-up. And then we’d just nod at each other all silent and badass-like.”

Dave watches as his thumb runs over the words, enjoying how his thumb tingles every time his skin meets the letters.

“Now you’ve got a reminder,” Dave says, “you can just look at this and know that you’re the most stunning motherfucker on the planet to me.”

-

Karkat’s breath sticks in his throat when Dave calls him beautiful. Fuck, he can’t just say shit like that, Karkat can’t take it.

Dave is so fucking sweet, and kind, and amazing, and Karkat sometimes still thinks this is a dream, because there’s no way he’s this lucky. Dave thinks he’s _beautiful_ , Karkat has the proof scrawled on his arm.

“I wish I would have said something sweet to you,” Karkat says. “You called me beautiful and I said you had a concussion. I mean, I was right. But it’s not exactly romantic.”

Karkat thinks about all the things he could have said, all the different words that could have appeared on Dave’s arm. He glances down, seeing his own handwriting on Dave’s red cast. 

“Dave,” he says hesitantly. “If you don’t have my words…”

He bites his lip, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles on Dave’s small waist.

“...What about a tattoo?”

He feels skeezy, even bringing it up. Soulmarks are special, a sign that fate is on your side. To fake one, brand words on your arm that aren’t meant to be there is spitting in the face of destiny. And what if Dave gets a soulmark later, after the tattoo. What if he finds who he’s really meant to be with?

But Karkat is greedy, and possessive, and he wants Dave all to himself. Wants his words on Dave’s arm, no matter what.

-

Dave blinks, staring off at the tiles of the shower wall as he considers the idea.

A tattoo.

Then it wouldn’t matter if Dave never got Karkat’s words. They wouldn’t have to leave it up to fate or destiny, it would be Dave’s choice.

Dave loved Karkat. Dave was in love with Karkat. He didn’t care about some stupid family curse. Even if it was real, even if Striders couldn’t have soulmates, even if Bro was some hateful prick...it didn’t make Dave incapable of love.

Dave grins. “I guess that way, you could pick whatever words you wanted,” Dave says, “unless you’d still want to keep the original words. But hey, who says we gotta follow the fucking rules. Shit, I don’t even think there even are rules. It’s not like anyone ever wrote a fucking book on the Do’s and Don’ts of soulmate bonds.”

Dave turns his head to peck Karkat on the temple. “Well, babe, if you had the chance to retcon our chance encounter...other than maybe not hitting me with a car and concussing me and breaking my arm, what d’you think your first words would have been? What am I getting inked on me for life?”

-

Dave doesn’t jerk away or tell him to fuck off at the suggestion. Karkat knew he wouldn’t, logically. Dave doesn’t give a shit about soulmates, not really. It doesn’t make his panic any less real, though it’s soothed by Dave’s reaction.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “If we’re talking realistically it would probably be something rude as fuck. I’m an asshole, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He kisses the side of Dave’s neck, thinking.

“We could do a matching one,” he says. “ _You’re beautiful._ Or a different adjective. I can think of a few. Amazing, sweet, gorgeous, kind, lovely, perfect. Mine.”

He punctuates each word with a kiss, moving up Dave’s neck to lick at the shell of his ear.

“If we’re bucking tradition,” he adds. “Why don’t you pick? What do you want your words to say, baby? What do you wish my first words to you were?”

-

Dave sighs softly at the kisses up his neck, tilting his head to give Karkat better access as a pleased grin pulls at his mouth. When Karkat asks Dave what he’d want his words to be, he opens his eyes and his grin goes mischievous.

“Well, shit, babe—if we’re just dropkicking tradition right out the fuckin’ window, I’ll just get your name in big bold letters right across my ass.” Dave says lightly.

He brings up his hand and sweeps it in front of himself like an invisible banner.

“K-A-R on one cheek, K-A-T on the other. Then I’ll walk around in assless chaps all the time so everyone knows I’m your property.”

-

Karkat laughs, burying his face in Dave’s hair at the mental image his words provide.

“You’re not my _property_ , asshole,” he says, dropping a kiss to his head. “You’re my soulmate, and my boyfriend, and the love of my life. I fucking love you.”

His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. An actual, physical ache. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy before. He’s certainly never smiled this much.

“You’re going to get so fucking sick of hearing that,” Karkat says. “I’m going to tell you I love you so much that you’ll shove a Q-tip in your ear and burst your eardrum so you never have to hear me say it again.”

-

— _the love of my life._

Dave’s heart clenches tight, and the mischievous look melts off his face entirely into a deeply touched expression that he’s glad Karkat can’t see right now because it’s likely pretty embarrassing.

“Nah,” Dave says, “don’t think I will, actually.”

Dave turns to press a kiss to Karkat’s cheek, then he buries his face against his neck, his mouth by Karkat’s ear.

“I don’t care how many times you say it,” Dave murmurs, “Because I’ll say it right back, every time.”

-

Karkat turns his head to kiss Dave’s temple, smile fading into something smaller, softer.

“Yeah?” he asks. “I’ll have to test that out sometime.”

For now, though, he uses his foot to grab at Dave’s loofah, maneuvering it up to his hand without having to dislodge his boyfriend. Weird monkey feet finally came in handy; eat shit, Kankri.

He lathers it up and runs it down Dave’s chest and stomach. He pushes him forward so he can scrub at his back, too. This is absolutely not the best way to get clean, but Karkat doesn’t give a single shit. The water is starting to cool, though, and Karkat’s hands are pruning up. 

When he and Dave get out of the tub and dry off, Karkat throws on his boxers and kicks their clothes aside, swooping his naked boyfriend into his arms once again and whisking him off to his bedroom, where he nudges the door shut with his foot and carefully deposits Dave on the bed, kissing his cheek while he does so.

“Hey gorgeous,” he grins, rubbing their noses together. He shucks off his boxers and crawls into bed, wrapping an arm around Dave’s waist and pulling him against his chest.

-

Dave has to hold back a loud laugh when Karkat scoops him up again—John sleeps like the dead but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t at least try to keep quiet. Once they’re in Dave’s room with the door shut, Dave can’t hold back the soft chuckle as Karkat sets him down on the bed and kisses his cheek. He feels his cheeks tingle with heat as Karkat calls him gorgeous, and then a pleased grin lights up his face as Karkat takes off his boxers and crawls into bed next to Dave. Karkat pulls Dave against his chest and then throws the blankets over the both of them.

Dave lets out a long, soft sigh, content and happy. He wraps his good arm loosely around Karkat’s waist and presses a kiss to Karkat’s chin.

He feels good. Relaxed and clean and featherlight. It feels like his insides are full of bubbles, like he could float to the ceiling. Sleeping in the nude was something he and Karkat had gotten quite accustomed to over the last week—it was much more convenient. Seems Karkat didn’t have any problem keeping it up, despite John being back. And Dave didn’t mind at all. Getting to feel the softness of the sheets and the warmth of his boyfriend’s body pressed up against his was pure bliss.

He can’t wait for his cast to come off, so that he can hold Karkat close the way he wants to, without his stupid arm in the way. They certainly make it work despite the handicap, but Dave still looks forward to the day he can actually give his boyfriend a proper hug.

Dave can’t lay on his left shoulder for very long, so eventually he rolls onto his back. Karkat keeps his arms wrapped around him, and Dave turns his head so he can still look at Karkat’s face.

He just takes him in for a moment, scanning over his features. Karkat hasn’t stopped smiling since Dave confessed. An amused huff of air comes out of Dave’s nose, shaking his chest slightly.

“Man, if I’d known that I just had to tell you that I was in love with you in order for you to keep smiling, I woulda done it ages ago.”

-

Being called out on it makes Karkat feel weirdly shy, and he ducks his head against Dave’s shoulder to hide his smile.

“You make me unrealistically happy,” he admits softly. “I’m not fucking like this with anyone else. I’m sure I’ll go back to my bitchy self eventually. Hopefully before my friends see.”

God, if his friends see Karkat smiling soppily at Dave they will rip him apart with absolute glee. They’d never take him seriously again (they barely take him seriously now). He’s sure that his annoyance with them will even out the ridiculous, overwhelming joy that Dave makes him feel, but until then he decides to put it out of his mind and enjoy the warmth of his boyfriend next to him.

“You tired, baby?” Karkat asks, kissing Dave’s shoulder. Karkat isn’t, but he’ll stay here, holding Dave, until Dave falls asleep. 

Karkat has been sleeping better, with Dave. Not all the time, but he’s been getting more restful sleep than he ever has. His nightmares are, for the most part, kept at bay while Dave is curled around him. Some nights Karkat can’t sleep no matter how much Dave plays with his hair and lulls him into a relaxed, boneless puddle. Others he’s out within minutes, snoring and drooling away. Dave is a fucking saint, putting up with him the way he does.

-

Dave presses a kiss into Karkat’s hair.

“A little,” he admits.

It was hard not to be, considering he’d cum twice today—Karkat gave him some delightful morning sex, and then just now on the couch. Then the relaxing bath had truly done him in, relaxing all of his muscles and leaving him soothed and content.

Karkat still looks wide awake, however. He certainly seems relaxed, but Dave knows by now that’s not enough to put Karkat to sleep. He reaches up and tucks a few loose curls behind Karkat’s ear.

“Wish I could make you as sleepy as I make you happy.” Dave says, “I’ll stay up with you as long as I can, though.”

-

Dave makes him so _soft_ , in a wonderful, addicting way. Karkat grabs his hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing each finger.

“I’ve gotten more sleep in the past two weeks than I have in the past six months combined,” he says, entirely truthful. “Go to sleep, baby, I’ll watch over you.”

Dave has nightmares, sometimes. They’re quiet, and Karkat wouldn’t have even noticed if he wasn’t pressed up against Dave’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. He doesn’t like to talk about them, and Karkat doesn’t press, but he wakes Dave up whenever he notices, and holds him tight until he can fall back asleep.

He kisses Dave’s forehead, a light brush that’s barely there.

“Love you.”

-

_I’ll watch over you._

Dave’s eyes flutter closed as Karkat kisses his forehead softly. With Karkat around, Dave has been able to sleep through the night. It’s like his body is always aware of Karkat’s presence next to him, knowing Karkat is watching over him and keeping him safe. From outside threats, and inside. He’ll wake Dave up when Dave has a bad dream, instead of Dave being ripped out of sleep when the nightmare gets too intense. Karkat never lets it get that far.

Dave does the same in return. The one time Dave is thankful to be such a light sleeper, because that means he can feel when Karkat starts to move around restlessly, and can hear his small sounds of distress. Dave is awake in a flash, and quickly coaxing Karkat out of his nightmare.

It’s a give and take. They look out for one another, protect each other.

Karkat was never the barbarian. He was always a knight; Dave’s knight. And Dave was his.

“I love you, too, Kitkat.”

Dave wants to keep his eyes open, wants to keep looking at Karkat’s face. But his eyes are so heavy...

He told Karkat he’d try to stay awake. But even as he tells himself this, his eyes won’t open.

Within minutes, Dave is asleep.

-

The next day, Karkat reluctantly packs his shit and leaves. He spends twenty minutes with Dave pressing him against the door, kissing each other fiercely like Karkat wasn’t going to immediately come back over after work. 

Sollux greets him with a snarking contest until Karkat gets fed up and plays love songs on spotify at full blast until Sollux retreats into his room. Karkat turns the music off and calls his dad.

The next few weeks go like this:

Dave goes back to work. Karkat goes over to his apartment as often as possible and massages his neck and shoulders after his shifts. He helps Dave with an application for state health insurance. He deals with shitty customers and texts Dave on his breaks to calm down. He reluctantly strikes up an antagonistic friendship with John, and pays more attention to his friends, who have weirdly missed him while he was wrapped up so tightly with Dave.

He takes a picture of Dave, shades off, smiling up at him with just-got-fucked hair and sets it as his phone background. He lets Dave take pictures of him, sometimes, though he refuses to smile for them. He cooks at Dave’s apartment, and sometimes takes leftovers home that Sollux eats without his permission, the ungrateful fuck.

Eventually, too quickly, Monopoly night rolls around. Dave is eager to meet his friends. Karkat thinks it a terrible fucking idea. He turns to Dave, outside of Terezi’s house, and says seriously, “You can still back out. You don’t have to do this.”

-

Dave huffs a little laugh. Karkat had been repeating that exact phrase ever since Terezi sent out the group memo for Monopoly Night. But Dave wasn’t having any of it.

“And miss my chance to get my vengeance? Never.” Dave says.

He knocks enthusiastically on the door, grinning cheekily at Karkat as he does so. He’d wink but, well. Shades.

Dave swoops over and quickly pecks Karkat on the cheek before anyone can come to the door. Not that he cares if anyone sees—he fully intends to be as touchy-feely tonight as Karkat is comfortable with around his friends. He certainly didn’t seem to mind being cuddly with Dave around John, after all.

Then again, John and Karkat had established an unconventional type of friendship. Karkat seemed to relish in making John squirm, and nothing worked better than excessive amounts of PDA with John’s best friend.

But Dave also likes to rile Karkat up. And if acting sappy around his friends will do the trick, then he’ll pull out all the stops.

“Relax, baby,” Dave urges, for the billionth time—though despite the amount of times he’s repeated these reassurances, he doesn’t sound exasperated in the least.

“Terezi can smell your trepidation. Don’t let her use it against you, because you know she fuckin’ will.”

Dave hasn’t met any of Karkat’s friends in person, but he’s heard enough about all of them that it feels like he’s hung out with them all countless times before. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t feel quite so nervous. Karkat was sure to give him an in-depth primer on all of his companions. Dave feels as though he could pass an exam about them with flying colours.

He bumps Karkat’s shoulder with his own just as the door swings open.

-

Dave is incredibly confident and Karkat balances him out by being an anxious wreck. His friends are going to eat them alive.

“Karkitty!”

Karkat doesn’t budge an inch as Nepeta throws her arms around him, squeezing for all she’s worth.

“Don’t _fucking_ call me that,” Karkat snaps, scowl immediately in place. He loves Nepeta, he does, but she absolutely refuses to call him anything but *Karkitty* because she knows how much he hates it. He pries her arms off of him, holding her at arm’s length as she beams at him. He rolls his eyes. “Hey, Nep.”

“And you must be Dave!” she breaks free of Karkat’s grip, turning to Dave with sparkling eyes. “Karkat’s soulmate!”

Before Dave can respond, Terezi appears from around the corner, shark-like grin in place.

“It’s about time,” she says. “Stop standing outside the door. We’re all _dying_ to meet your soulmate.”

It’s going to be a long fucking night.

-

As soon as the door opens there’s a blur and a cry of “Karkitty!” and Dave watches as his boyfriend stays rooted to the spot as a tiny girl flies out the door and crashes into him. Karkat must be very used to this occurrence, because he doesn’t budge in the slightest.

That has to be Nepeta. She turns to Dave with a bright smile and wide eyes, and—

Wow. Hearing someone else call him Karkat’s soulmate is fucking wild, and makes Dave break out into a grin. Which is even more wild, because he only smiles like this around Karkat and John (but only when Karkat is around).

That seemed to be the common denominator. As long as Karkat was around, it was okay to let down his guard.

Another girl appears before Dave can introduce himself properly to Nepeta, and Dave knows from the moment she speaks that it has to be Terezi.

She also calls Dave Karkat’s soulmate. Dave doesn’t think he’ll get tired of hearing it. Terezi says to step inside so Dave does so, following Nepeta inside, who’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement as Dave comes inside, Karkat following close behind him.

They’re led by Terezi and Nepeta into the living room, where several others are already seated at a large table, Monopoly board already set out and ready to go. Everyone looks up as the four of them enter the room, and Dave lifts his hand in a little wave.

“Sup, y’all.”

-

Everyone looks up simultaneously, glee on their stupid faces, and it’s like smelling blood in the water.

“Fucking behave yourselves,” Karkat demands, grabbing Dave by the hand and leading him to the open spots on the floor He drops down into his ungracefully. “This is Dave and if you scare him off I’ll kill you all one by one.”

That seems to be more than they can take, because they all start talking at the same time. Not a single word is audible in the cacophony of noise. Karkat pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath and squeezing Dave’s hand.

“Silence, nerds!” Vriska declares, swaggering in from the kitchen, munching on a piece of pizza. Her eye sweeps over the room, landing on Dave and she smiles, all teeth and incredibly unfriendly. “So you’re the chump who’s saddled with this loser for like, the rest of your life? My condolences.”

She plops down into her seat, looking all too pleased with herself.

“Fuck off, Vriska,” Karkat rolls his eyes.

-

Karkat drags Dave into the room and sits down, and doesn’t let go of Dave’s hand.

All of Karkat’s friends start to speak at once and Dave blinks owlishly behind his shades, but otherwise keeps his face neutral so they can’t see his bewilderment. Karkat’s already pinching his nose and growling, so Dave squeezes his hand back extra tight, hoping it’s reassuring.

Vriska comes in and proves herself right away to be just as much of a bitch as Karkat made her out to be during his Friend Primer. Karkat’s quick to tell her to fuck off, and Dave lets out a little scoff of a laugh.

“Yep, got it in one,” Dave says with a little shrug, “Gonna get me some mink oil and polish that saddle up real nice. Nice pair of riding boots, a big ole hat. Ready for the long-haul.”

-

It’s hard to control his expression; Karkat’s never been good at that shit. His lip twitches up at the corner as Dave squeezes his hand. _Ready for the long-haul_. Fuck, Karkat loves him.

Nepeta puts her chin in her hands, smiling at them, and Feferi is nearly as bad, letting out a high pitched squeal.

“That’s _adorable_ ,” she says. “It’s great to meet you, Dave!”

“Are we going to play this stupid game or not?” Sollux complains. “I have shit to do tomorrow.”

Silence falls for a split second, and then everyone lunges for the pieces. Karkat manages to scoop up the tophat for Dave, but his little dog is lost to Gamzee, who gives him a lazy smile and a “sorry, brother.” Karkat grumpily accepts one of Terezi’s fucked up homemade pieces--he thinks it’s supposed to be a little red dragon--and passes the tophat to Dave, sitting back to wait as the next ten minutes are spent with people trading their pieces and dealing money to everyone. Aradia is in charge of the bank, this time.

“I’m going first,” Vriska says, rolling before anyone can protest. At least Nepeta brought the dice this time, so they’re not weighted. “Does your unfortunate soulmate know the rules, Vantas?”

“Yeah, we played a game,” Karkat says. He doesn’t mention that they didn’t finish it because Karkat was too enthusiastic about fucking Dave on the coffee table.

-

Karkat manages to snag the top hat for Dave, and Dave mumbles an apology to Karkat about losing the little dog piece.

“Thanks, babe. I woulda snagged yours if I had both arms handy.”

Vriska rolls first, asking if Dave knows the rules. Karkat says he does, and then his cheeks go a little pink. Dave can’t hold back the smirk at seeing Karkat’s blush, knowing he must be thinking about how they never wound up finishing that game.

Well, they certainly finished in other ways.

“Karkat won,” Dave says, bumping Karkat’s shoulder a little.

-

“Fuck you, no I didn’t. But I _would_ have,” he says. 

The night goes… relatively well. His friends needle him about Dave until he’s scowling and fuming, but Dave gets on pretty well with them. He talks to Tavros about anime, and Aradia about dead shit. He seems to genuinely like Terezi’s shitty sculptures, which of course he does. 

The fallout isn’t too bad. Nepeta bites Sollux because she’s fucking feral and Sollux tried to swipe some money from her. Terezi whacks Eridan in the face with her cane ‘on accident’ and he has to forfeit early to go deal with a bloody nose. Vriska tries to bait Aradia into a fight, but Aradia doesn’t give a single shit, which only infuriates Vriska further. 

Dave is the first one to go bankrupt, predictably. Karkat kisses his temple and squeezes his hand.

The game ends early when Gamzee gets up to use the bathroom and topples the board.

“Whoops,” he says. “My motherfuckin’ bad.”

Vriska strangles him. It takes Karkat and Equius’s--Nepeta’s soulmate--combined strength to pull her off, and Gamzee ambles off down the hallway like nothing happened.

“I’m sorry my friends are fucking insane,” Karkat tells Dave as Terezi consoles Vriska.

-

Dave is helping Feferi and Aradia pick all the game pieces off the floor now that the whole choking situation has been deescalated, and Karkat comes over to join them and help out.

Karkat’s winded from having to practically wrestle Vriska into a chokehold on the floor, his hair an absolute mess (Vriska fought dirty and pulled on it a bunch of times). Dave finishes dumping the last of the scattered game pieces into the box and stands to his feet.

“Yeah, they’re fucking lunatics,” Dave agrees, “But normal is lame. If I had a boyfriend who did regular board game nights every month where everyone followed the rules and nobody got choked out I would die of boredom.”

He could have gone without seeing blood, but he keeps that to himself. It probably wasn’t a normal get-together for Karkat’s friends without a little blood loss. But man, did Eridan’s nose fucking gush.

Dave puts the thought out of his mind by leaning down to press a kiss to Karkat’s lips. They haven’t kissed on the mouth all night, and they’re standing right in the middle of the room, and most of Karkat’s friends are still in here. Dave couldn’t care less—he’d gone over an hour without kissing his boyfriend and he needed to remedy that situation quick.

“I had a blast,” Dave says, “Even if I lost spectacularly, yet again. I’ll just have to try again next month.”

-

Dave kisses him in front of all of Karkat’s friends and his eyes drift closed, lips curling up into a smile. 

“You wanna play again?” Karkat asks hopefully. This isn’t the most chaotic their game night has ever been, but it wasn’t exactly tame, either. 

“Oh my god,” Feferi stage-whispers to Nepeta. Karkat ignores them.

“What are you doing with your face, KK?” Sollux asks, because he’s an asshole. Nepeta whacks him with a pillow.

“He’s _smiling_. Don’t make me bite you again,” she says.

Karkat’s scowl is now firmly back in place. Why is he friends with these jackasses?

-

Dave pulls the first smile he’s seen on Karkat’s face all day out of him with that single kiss, and now Dave is kicking himself for not smooching him much sooner.

It leaves as quickly as it appeared, and Karkat’s scowling again as Sollux smirks triumphantly at him and Feferi and Nepeta whisper and giggle to each other.

Dave wraps his arm around Karkat’s shoulder and pulls him in close, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, the girls and I got all the game pieces picked up, so we could give it another shot.”

Then, he whispers in Karkat’s ear.

“Put the little dog in my pocket, so you can have him for the next round.”

-

Karkat blinks in surprise, then tugs Dave close with an arm around his waist, hiding his grin in Dave’s neck. He slips the tiny dog into Dave’s back pocket, giving his ass a squeeze while he’s there. 

“Ugh,” Vriska says, and Karkat sees her lip curling in disgust when he peeks over at her. He pulls his hand out of Dave’s pocket, middle finger at the ready. 

“What’s the matter, Serket?” he sneers. “Jealous?”

“As if,” is her reply. Terezi tugs her away before Karkat can do something childish like stick his tongue out at her. He reluctantly pulls away from his boyfriend to see Nepeta, Feferi, and Aradia--when did she get there?--grinning at them.

“Can you fucking knock that off?” he asks, rolling his eyes. He’s not upset; he’s glad they like Dave, but the staring is slightly creepy.

“No,” they reply in unison. Karkat sighs.

“Are you ready to get out of here or do you have your heart set on talking to Tavros about anime for another hour?” he asks. 

This has been surprisingly fun, so far. No one’s threatened Dave, at least, which was definitely a concern of his. Even so, Karkat doesn’t want to press their luck. Introducing Dave to his friends in small doses is probably the best strategy. Let him build up an immunity to their bullshit. Besides, they haven’t busted out the booze yet and that’s when shit really gets wild.

-

Karkat asks if Dave wants to head out, but Dave knows well enough by now when Karkat redirects questions to be about Dave, it’s used to hide Karkat’s own intentions.

Karkat would be happy to stay if Dave wanted to play another round. But he also wouldn’t be opposed to Dave wanting to call it a night. In fact, Dave will bet Karkat’s hoping for it. Ever since John got back, the two of them have been antsy for any and all alone time that they can get. So as fun as socializing and getting to know all of Karkat’s friends is, Dave’s looking forward to heading back to his place so he and Karkat can chill for the rest of the evening.

“I’m ready to hit the road if you are, baby.” Dave says, squeezing Karkat’s shoulder.

He’s not sure why the girls are staring him down so much, but he’s definitely starting to feel watched. In fact, it felt like he was under a lens the entire game. It was a little distracting, and was probably the reason he went bankrupt as quickly as he did.

He’s also just really shit at Monopoly.

Dave says his goodbyes to Tavros, who’s sitting on the couch with Gamzee. Tavros smiles and waves and Gamzee keeps his eyes on the TV screen—it’s just an infomercial, but his attention is rapt.

They head over to the front door, when a cane comes up across Dave’s chest before he can pass the threshold into the front hallway. Dave stops in his tracks, and looks over to the end of the pole. Terezi is grinning at him, and Dave has to suppress a gulp and make a conscious effort not to make a move for his back pocket. She totally knew Karkat stashed the dog statue in there, and now he was in for a beating.

“Sup, TZ?” Dave asks, trying to keep his voice light and casual.

-

Dave says yes and they’re almost out of there before Terezi gets in the way.

“ _Dave_ ,” she says, voice sugary sweet in a way that means trouble. Concerningly, Nepeta, Feferi, and even Vriska move in behind her. “You didn’t think you’d get out of here without a _serious_ conversation, did you? Karkat, you don’t mind if we borrow your soulmate for a minute, do you?”

“Uh, yes, I do fucking mind,” Karkat snaps, but Nepeta is tugging Dave out of his grip with an apologetic smile and pushing him over to Feferi, and then he’s being ushered down the hall and Aradia is standing in front of him, grinning her disconcerting smile and patting him consolingly on the arm.

“Don’t worry,” she says, chipper as ever. “They won’t hurt him too much!”

That is not at all reassuring.

-

Before Dave can realize what is happening, Nepeta is pulling him away from Karkat and then down the hall. He looks over his shoulder at Karkat, and the look on Karkat’s face doesn’t exactly help to quell his trepidations.

“It’s cool, babe, be right back,” Dave calls out.

Karkat doesn’t look like he believes that in the slightest. Dave doesn’t either.

Dave is pulled into the kitchen with Nepeta and Feferi. Vriska, Terezi, and Aradia are all close behind them. Dave is suddenly surrounded by five girls and feeling very, very trapped.

“Alright, ladies, y’all’ve been eyeing me up like a bunch of lionesses hunting a gazelle all night long,” Dave says, “What’s this all about?”

-

“Daaaaaaaave,” Vriska says. “I think you know what this is about.”

“We like you, Dave,” Feferi jumps in. “You seem nice! But Karkat’s had some rough relationships in the past. And, well--”

“If you hurt him you’ll regret it,” Terezi says, leaning on her cane, smile not faltering. “Soulmate or not.”

“We joke around, but Karkat is a very dear friend,” says Aradia. “We’d never make him choose between his soulmate and his friends, of course, but we can make life very unpleasant for you!”

“Don’t make us have to do that, Dave,” Nepeta says. “Vriska is crazy, Aradia knows how to dissolve bodies, Terezi knows every letter of the law, Feferi’s the heiress to a corporate empire, and I bite.”

She grins, showing her teeth. Terezi lifts her cane to poke Dave harshly in the chest.

“Keep making him smile and we won’t have a problem,” she says. “Got it?”

-

Oh.

“...Yeah, I know a bit about his exes,” Dave mutters softly, “He didn’t tell me much, but what little he did tell me made me see fuckin’ red.”

Dave gives a little sigh.

“Dude seems to think that what happened to him wasn’t even abuse, or that it was all his fault.”

Dave gets it. He was in the same boat for a long, long time. He’s still in boat. He only just managed to plug up the leaks and start paddling for shore in the last few years. He can’t ask Karkat to have some kind of trauma epiphany overnight. That’s not how it worked.

“I like making him smile, and I want to treat him how he deserves to be treated. He might keep some shit from me thinking he’s sparing my feelings, so in case he has a feelings jam with any of y’all...well, if he’s just gotta bitch about me for something stupid that’s fine, I get it. Let the man have some privacy, I don’t gotta know everything. But if you think that what he’s saying to you is really fucking germaine for me to hear, lemme know. And I’ll make it right. I’m kinda new to this whole dating shindig, but—but that doesn’t mean I ain’t taking it seriously. Soulmate or not, Karkat is...super fucking important to me. So I don’t want to fuck this up. I’ll do right by him.”

-

Terezi’s smile gets a little less sharp, and Nepeta is back to staring at Dave with stars in her eyes, while Feferi giggles behind her hand.

“Ugh,” Vriska says, grimacing. “Gag me. I’m not here for saccharine nonsense.”

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and marches out of the room, effectively calling an end to the shovel talk. Nepeta punches Dave’s shoulder with surprising strength and a smile.

“Karkitty!” she calls. “Come get your man!”

There’s the sound of a scuffle from the other room, and then Karkat stomps into the kitchen like a storm cloud. He looks Dave over and, not seeing any obvious injuries, grabs his hand.

“Let’s go, before Gamzee tries to fucking sit on me again,” he says, tugging Dave to the door.

-

Karkat stomps into the kitchen and Dave lights up like a Christmas tree the moment he sees him. Karkat snatches Dave’s hand and tugs Dave out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Dave looks over his shoulder, flashing the girls a quick thumbs up and a cheeky smile before Karkat drags him out the door.

They get out to the car, and before Dave buckles up he leans over and presses a kiss to Karkat’s cheek.

“They might be lunatics,” Dave says, sitting back in his seat and smiling at Karkat’s bewildered look, “But they’re solid. It’s good to see you got so many people in your corner.”

Dave sets up his phone with the aux cord and then pulls on his seatbelt, leaning back in his seat.

“I had a lot of fun,” Dave says, “but I’m ready to head home and get my cuddle on. My Karkat Meter is runnin’ real low. Need to fuel up.”

-

Karkat leans over and grips Dave’s chin, turning his head towards him so he can kiss him slow and deep, before he pulls back.

“To tide you over,” he says, starting up the car. “They didn’t do anything too bad did they? They fucking got Nepeta’s stupid soulmate to block the way and Gamzee tried to fucking sit on me, that idiot. Like I couldn’t toss his ass a mile away. And fucking Sollux with his ‘just let it happen, KK,’ I swear to god I don’t know why I ever go over there.”

-

The kiss makes Dave smile all crooked and sappily, but when Karkat describes how the rest of Karkat’s friends also helped out in their own way it makes Dave break out into a wide grin.

They all had Karkat’s back so fiercely, and yet it was like Karkat didn’t even realize it himself. Dave knew Karkat cared deeply for his friends, and maybe they all took advantage of Karkat’s abundant patience and kindness, but they also were all Karkat’s ride or die, every single one of them.

It was hard to find _one_ person in this life who could be that for someone else. Karkat had managed to find multiple.

“Nah, they didn’t even lay a finger on me,” Dave says, “Well, TZ poked me with her cane a little, but that’s pretty tame. Just a little chit-chat between us girls.”

-

Karkat hmms, glancing at Dave out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t seem to be lying, but Karkat makes a mental note to send an angry memo to all his idiot friends anyway. 

The drive back to Dave’s apartment is mostly quiet, save for the music Dave put on. When they arrive, Karkat walks around the car to pull Dave into a tight hug.

“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly. “You didn’t have to. I know my friends are all fucking insane.”

It means a lot that Dave gets along with his friends. All his previous romantic partners had taken issue with them. For good fucking reason, usually, like ‘you shouldn’t hang out with people who try to kill each other, what the fuck?’ but Dave didn’t talk any amount of shit on the ride home. 

-

When they get back to the apartment, Karkat comes around to the passenger side as Dave is stepping out and closing the door, and wraps Dave up in a hug.

Dave blinks a little in surprise at first, but quickly melts into the embrace and feeling his chest squeeze when Karkat thanks him for meeting his friends.

“Don’t be silly,” Dave says. He wraps his arm around Karkat’s waist. “Of course I had to. But I didn’t do it because I had to. I wanted to. Your friends are a big part of your life, they’re important to you.”

Dave nuzzles his cheek against Karkat’s hair. “And I’m a greedy motherfucker who wants to know about every part of you there is to know.”

-

Karkat squeezes Dave tighter. Dave is so fucking _good_ , what the fuck, Karkat loves him so fucking much.

“I’m an open book, babe,” he says. “And a pretty fucking boring one, at that. But I want to know everything about you, too.”

He pulls away and leads Dave up to the apartment, where John is sitting in the living room watching an undoubtedly shitty movie. He greets them with a big doofy smile and Karkat takes great pleasure in kissing Dave solidly on the mouth, and when he looks over the smile is replaced with a grimace.

“Hey, idiot,” Karkat says.

-

John flicks a piece of popcorn across the room at Karkat, but it hits Dave in the shoulder instead. It doesn’t make a sound, and hits the floor without much pomp and circumstance. Dave stares down at the piece of popcorn for a moment, then back up at John, who looks deeply disappointed.

“...the fuck, Egbert.”

“Shit! Sorry, Dave! That was supposed to hit Karkat, not you.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from this betrayal of our friendship, John.”

John pops a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth instead of attempting to toss any more across the room.

“So, you made it back in one piece, and with as many casts as you left with,” John remarks through a mouthful, “The way Karkat went on about all his friends, I was expecting to see Karkat dragging your ass back in here hooked up to an iron lung.”

Dave gives a little shrug as he walks across the room and reaches behind the couch and over John’s shoulder to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

“Nah, I was a huge hit. They were all super jealous of Karkat and his super sexy and charismatic boyfriend, and couldn’t wait to get me alone so they could all tell me how great I am.”

“...man, I know they say that love changes you, I just never expected it to make you into an even cockier prick than you already were.”

“It’s truly a curse.”

The movie credits begin to roll, and John turns off Netflix and switches the input on the TV for the PlayStation.

“Hey Karkat, wanna play? I just bought A Way Out while I was in Washington—I was going to play it with Dave because it’s a co-op game, but since he’s out of commission, maybe you’d want to play it with me instead?”

“Ooh, that’s that one where you gotta team up to break outta prison, right? I read an article about it on GameBro,” Dave says.

John nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, that’s the one! Do you mind if Karkat plays with me instead, Dave? I can wait until you’re healed up!”

Dave comes around the couch and sits down on the middle cushion.

“Nah, dude, watching you and Karkat have to team up to break out of prison will be way more entertaining than playing it myself,” Dave says. Then he looks over his shoulder at Karkat. “What do you say, babe?”

“C’mon, Karkat! Let’s bust outta prison and go rob a bank or some shit together!” John exclaims with a wide grin, “I don’t know anything about this game other than you try to break out of prison, so I don’t know what happens, but I’m sure we’ll get up to all kinds of shenanigans!”

-

Karkat rolls his eyes at John and Dave, plopping down next to Dave on the couch. He’d been looking forward to cuddling with his boyfriend, but that could come later, he supposes, since Dave seems to be interested in seeing Karkat inevitably lose his shit while playing this game with John.

“Fucking fine, Egbert,” he grouches, grabbing the controller off the table. “But you better fucking _listen to me_ and not fuck around.”

John cheers and starts up the game. Karkat leans into Dave, prepared to give this maybe fifteen minutes of his time before he gets bored, but the story is as immersive as John is infuriating, and half an hour later he’s red-faced and yelling at John to GET THE FUCKING CHISEL AND STOP TALKING TO EVERY FUCKING CHARACTER, YOU INFURIATING, INSIPID DIPSHIT.

-

“I’m just trying to be thorough!” John cries, “it says ‘get chisel’ on both our screens, either one of us can get it! And if I keep talking to people it’ll probably give us a clue.”

“I think you gotta go talk to that one dude again, who’s just standing there. Convince him to help you distract that guard?” Dave offers.

“Yeah, he seemed like our best bet,” John says. He walks his character back over to the NPC and starts up a conversation. He laughs at the dialogue. “Holy shit, did he really just say ‘I understand you’re a man who knows how to get things’? Is this entire game just an homage to Shawshank?”

“The fuck is Shawshank?” Dave asks. He hikes his legs up onto the couch and leans against Karkat’s shoulder.

John gives Dave an incredulous look. “You’ve never seen A Shawshank Redemption? Dude, we totally have to watch it sometime. This game is referencing it like crazy...haha, the guy just mentioned a record player in the warden’s office. That was in the movie, too.” John looks back to the screen and starts creating a distraction for the guard, since he’s exhausted all the NPC dialogue. “You’d like it, it’s got Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman, and it’s based on a novella by Stephen King.”

“You had me at Morgan Freeman,” Dave says, “Let me guess, he narrates that shit, too.”

“Dude. You fucking know he narrates it,” John says, “In the books, his character is actually an Irish guy, described as pale and ginger. So they have Freeman make a joke that he’s ‘Irish’ and that’s why his nickname is Red...”

John prattles off a few more random factoids about the movie as they continue to play—how John has such a vast knowledge for films, both shitty and otherwise, Dave will never know.

Eventually John and Karkat manage to get the chisel, steal bedsheets, smuggle a wrench, and then they’re finally sneaking around guards and searchlights to get to the watchtower.

“I am so emotionally invested in this right now.” Dave says under his breath.

Karkat’s character manages to zipline across to the next building from the watchtower, but when John’s player tries the line snaps, and it alerts the attention of the guards, and all three boys groan in despair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! They’re shooting at us! Karkat, don’t let me fall!” John cries, desperately tapping the button to climb up the wall while Karkat rapidly taps his button to keep a hold of the rope.

“Shiiiit, John why’d your character have to be so husky?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dave!”

“Wow, y’all better run. Damn, those fuckers are treating you like y’all are criminals or somethin’.”

John and Karkat’s players run through the woods, evading and taking out guards until they finally get away on a small boat, and they’re in the clear.

John leans back with a sigh of relief. “Holy shit, that took forever.”

“Now you gotta go get your revenge on that Harvey dude?” Dave says.

“Yeah,” John says through a yawn, “But I’ve gotta get up early tomorrow, got a morning class and then work.”

John saves the game and goes back to the home screen. “This game is fun so far, though! We’ll have to play again another night.”

John gets up and stretches with a groan. “Well, I’m off to bed. Night, guys.”

“Nighty-night, Johnny-boy.” Dave says with a little wave.

John heads off to get ready for bed, and Dave looks over at Karkat with a little smirk. Then, he climbs into Karkat’s lap.

“That kiss you gave me to tide me over wore off a while ago,” Dave says, “Time to refuel.”

Dave slips his arm around Karkat’s shoulders and leans in to press his lips to Karkat’s, smiling against their mouths.

-

“I’m going to fucking kill John,” Karkat says against Dave’s lips. “How the fuck do you ever do anything with him?”

Karkat may be exaggerating. John isn’t that bad. Karkat wasn’t screaming wordlessly in rage or throwing his controller at the wall, which has definitely happened before while gaming with his friends. It’s still not exactly a walk in the fucking park, though.

His boyfriend climbing into his lap soothes his irritation like nothing else. His hand swipes up and down the ridges of Dave’s spine as they exchange slow, lazy kisses. It’s been a long, anxiety-ridden day. Karkat was practically vibrating out of his skin before they met up with his friends.

“What are you feeling tonight, baby?” he asks, settling his hand at Dave’s neck and giving it a squeeze. 

If Dave wants to have sex, then they’ll have sex, even though Karkat would mostly just like to cuddle and kiss. They can do that after, he guesses, if Dave wants to (Dave always wants to, and it’s more than Karkat deserves).

-

Dave feels Karkat’s entire body go slack underneath him, his entire body language slowly unfurling from its tightened coil the more they continue to kiss. Hell yeah—nothing cured his boyfriend’s anxious grouchiness better than this. It was a good thing Karkat was such a snuggle bug. And Dave would be lying if he said that the knowledge that him crawling into Karkat’s lap was enough to calm him down didn’t make him feel ridiculously smug with pride. It was certainly a handy little superpower to have, that was for sure. And one that Dave didn’t mind exploiting in the slightest.

Dave’s main goal for the rest of the evening is putting Karkat in a real good fucking mood. But here Karkat was, asking Dave what he wanted to do, as though he hadn’t already humoured Dave all day long. Karkat really was way too good to him.

“I’m feeling like making my baby feel nice and relaxed,” Dave says, bumping their noses together, “I know you were super nervous about me meeting your friends, plus I know Egbert is a real pill. It’s the Only Child Energy, he’s like a shark smelling blood in the water. You make it too easy for him, baby. He loves getting a rise out of you, his prankster’s gambit won’t let him rest around a target that’s easy to rile up.”

That’s got Karkat frowning and then opening his mouth to go into what is no doubt another tangent about how infuriating John is, but Dave merely shuts him up with another kiss until Karkat’s sighing against his mouth.

Ha. Works like a charm.

Dave pulls away and then pecks Karkat on the nose, and then the forehead. “How about we just cozy up under a blanket and put something on Netflix or whatever? Whatever you wanna watch, I don’t really care. I’ll probably just lay face down on your chest the whole time so I don’t really mind what it is.”

-

Karkat would be pissed at how well Dave can play him if he didn’t enjoy it so much. John is immediately pushed from his thoughts as Dave kisses him tenderly, cupping his face and rubbing his thumb along his jaw until Karkat is a useless pile of putty beneath him.

Dave doesn’t mention sex, and Karkat feels guilty for being relieved. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to, but… he just wants to unwind, curl around his boyfriend and be lazy and do nothing for a night. It feels like he isn’t living up to his Boyfriend Duties, but unless Dave starts something Karkat will be selfish, like always.

“Sounds good, baby,” he says, pulling Dave back in for another kiss. Dave seems to be in no hurry to move and Karkat won’t make him. “Think you could play with my hair again?”

Dave’s gotten even better at that since he looked up some articles about pressure points. Karkat had been surprised when Dave admitted it, his heart melting at the idea that Dave would do that specifically for him. 

-

Dave grins. “I woulda done that anyway, babes, but since you asked for it I’ll just do it even more.”

Dave gives Karkat one more kiss and then pulls himself off Karkat’s lap to get the remote. He throws Princess Mononoke on Netflix—he’s seen it before and knows it’s the perfect movie to just veg out too, lots of pretty scenery and calm music. And if neither of them end up paying any attention to it, at least it’s good background noise.

Dave gets Karkat to stand up so that he can lay out on his back on the couch. Karkat grabs the blanket, and settles between Dave’s legs and lays on his chest. Dave rests his cast arm across Karkat’s torso, above the blanket, and his other hand goes straight into Karkat’s hair and starts to gently run his fingers through the curls.

“How’s this, baby? I dunno about you, but this is all I could think about all day. Don’t wanna do a fuckin’ thing other than just lie here bein’ lazy with you...”

Dave goes quiet for a moment, pursing his lips as though in thought as he looks at the screen.

“...Not to say I’m like ‘not in the mood’ for anything in like, a bad way. But I’m also pretty sure we have yet to go a day without fucking each other’s brains out since the first time we fucked each other’s brains out. And while I am not complaining about that in the slightest, do not get me wrong—it’s also just nice to...like, before we addressed all that palpable sexual tension, when we managed to get through the first, what, 72 hours of knowing one another without shoving our dicks into each other in some way or another—that was also nice. Just like...hanging out with you. Playing board games, watching movies. Not-wholly-platonic cuddles. I’ve never had anything like that before you...all my previous relationships were—well, uh. Not even relationships, as a matter of fact. They were just like hookups or casual friends with benefits type of situations. Either way, it was purely physical. The sole purpose was to get our fuck on.”

Dave switches from strokes through Karkat’s hair to rubbing gently at his temple.

“...So, yeah. I never had the option to just...take the night off. And have that be okay. You know? So this is...this is nice. And if it’s all good by you, then it’s all good by me, too.”

He presses a kiss into Karkat’s hair.

“But, I mean, just give ch’boy a heads up if some heads start goin’ up, know what I’m sayin’? And I will do everything within the realm of my boyfriend-y powers to remedy the fuck outta that situation, that is the opposite of a problem for me.”

-

Karkat feels his eyes stinging halfway through Dave’s soliloquy, and by the time he’s done Karkat has to roll over, pressing their chests together, so he can hide his face in Dave’s neck and try to pull himself together.

He wasn’t expecting that. He knows Dave likes to cuddle, but he didn’t think Dave would want to do _just_ that, might be missing it the way Karkat is. He needs to stop comparing Dave to his previous relationships. Dave isn’t going to accuse him of not finding him attractive anymore, or of cheating on him when he isn’t in the mood for sex. He’s not going to make him blow off his friends, or dress differently, or guilt him into buying things.

Fuck, maybe his friends were right. Maybe Karkat wasn’t the only one at fault for his failed relationships.

“I love you,” Karkat sniffles pathetically. A few tears leaked out but that’s the extent of it. He might be too emotionally exhausted to cry tonight.

-

To say that Karkat’s reaction is a surprise to Dave would be the understatement of the century.

When Karkat first tucks his face into Dave’s neck, Dave just smiles fondly, thinking Karkat’s simply getting flustered by Dave’s words and is hiding away like the cute motherfucker he is. But then Dave feels wetness on his neck, and Karkat sniffles and tells him he loves him in the sweetest, smallest voice.

“Whoa, baby, baby, what—“ Dave sits up a little bit, squirming underneath Karkat, taking his hand from Karkat’s hair to cup the side of his face and guide Karkat to look at him. Sure enough, Karkat’s lashes were dappled with tears, his eyes wet and sparkling and his cheeks flushed.

“Wh—Karkat, babe, what—“ Dave can’t even formulate a single coherent thought, he’s so baffled. He strokes his thumb across Karkat’s cheek, wiping away the tears.

“What’s wrong, Kitkat?” Dave asks, voice laced with concern.

-

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” Karkat says immediately, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to ruin cuddle time with his wonderful boyfriend. The last time Karkat mentioned anything about his exes Dave got pissed; the most angry Karkat’s ever seen him. And Karkat can take people being angry at him, especially when he deserves it, but he has no idea what to do when people are mad on his behalf.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, turning his head to kiss Dave’s hand. “Cuddles sound fucking fantastic.”

He gives Dave’s palm another peck, then wipes his face off and returns it to his hiding place in Dave’s neck, kissing there too for good measure. Dave is a mishmash of ridiculous quirks and unresolved trauma and an endless stream of words and he’s way too good to Karkat and Karkat loves him so fucking much.

-

Dave’s lip sticks out in a befuddled and still mildly concerned pout.

“Yeah, nah, I think I’m’a worry about it.” Dave says simply.

He runs his fingers through Karkat’s curls, pushing the hair out of his boyfriend’s eyes.

“I didn’t expect that little admission to warrant my boyfriend to be moved to fuckin’ tears,” Dave goes on, “so I’m a little curious as to the thought process on your end that lead to the conclusion to flip the waterworks switch on. I mean I know you’re not, like, weeping like a week-old widow because what I told you upset you, but it definitely pulled on some kinda heartstring and you can’t exactly blame me for being curious. I’m still learning how to play this instrument, and it’d be nice to know which chords are the ‘move Karkat to tears’ ones. And I don’t care how ‘stupid’ you think the reason is, I wanna know it.”

Dave leans forward and kisses Karkat’s nose.

“Already told you, I wanna know every little part of you,” Dave says, “Catch me with a pen and paper just jotting down all kinds of study notes so I can cram for the Karkat Finals, I plan to get all kinds of educated up in this shit. So c’mon and school me, babes.”

-

That’s right, Dave wants to know all of him, even the ugly, embarrassing parts, and he deserves to. Karkat _wants_ him to. Even still, he hesitates. He could tell Dave he doesn’t want to talk about it and Dave would probably respect that. He chews his lip, debating.

Finally, he sighs, deflating. Open communication, the foundation of every healthy relationship. Right.

“I don’t want you to get upset,” he says, which likely does nothing to calm Dave down. He grabs Dave’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “Sometimes my exes would get pissed if they wanted to have sex and I just wanted to cuddle. It always turned into a giant fucking fight so it was just… easier to go with it, after awhile.”

He doesn’t like how that sounds, like he was forced into it, or didn’t enjoy it, so he adds, “It wasn’t _bad_ , just sometimes I would have… preferred not to.”

That doesn’t sound any better. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Where is his ridiculous verbosity when he needs it the most?

Karkat isn’t a pushover in relationships. That’s probably why there were so many fights. But despite his confrontational, ornery personality, there are some days--few and far between--when he comes home and doesn’t want to verbally spar with his significant other until he’s either tearing his hair out or storming out of the apartment. So yeah, when they shoved a hand down his pants or climbed on top of him when he’d rather curl up with a book, sometimes he just went along with it, so what? So fucking what?

The words get stuck in his throat and he feels odd. Adrift, almost. His grip tightens on Dave’s hand to keep himself anchored.


	11. Chapter 11

Dave’s confused look turns into concern as Karkat says he doesn’t want to make Dave upset. Then his concerned look deepens into a frown as Karkat mentions his exes.

Christ. It was no fucking wonder that all of Karkat’s friends were so adamant on vetting Dave out, whether Dave was Karkat’s soulmate or not. Karkat had not been treated right by any of his previous partners—to the point he was moved to fucking tears at the fact Dave is...okay spending time with him without having sex.

Karkat keeps his eyes off of Dave, looking off at nothing and looking rather ashamed. He squeezes Dave’s hand. Dave’s frown softens.

He brings Dave hand to his mouth and kisses over Karkat’s knuckles.

“That fucking sucks, baby. I’m sorry,” Dave says, light but sympathetic all the same.

He feels yet another urge to knock all of Karkat’s ex’s heads together simultaneously, but he knows better than to fly off the handle like he did the first time. Dave just kisses each one of Karkat’s knuckles, then turns Karkat’s hand over to kiss his palm.

“You may be sexy and irresistible as fuck, and eighty percent of my daily thoughts are usually about jumping your bones—but that don’t mean I always gotta act on it. Especially if you ain’t feeling it. And I ain’t gonna think that you suddenly don’t think I’m bangin’ if you don’t want to get frisky with me every now and then. You aren’t gonna hurt my tender li’l feelings, I’m a big girl. I can handle a little soft rejection here or there. And I know you wouldn’t get your knickers in a fuckin’ twist if I wasn’t up for it, either. If anything I think it’d be nice to take a breather now and then, because then when you do start things up again, it’s like ‘oh hey sex is great actually’.”

Dave gives Karkat’s hand another firm squeeze. “I think it’s been good and well established that your exes all fucking suck rancid donkey dick. And I already promised this to your friends, but I figure I may as well say it to the man himself.”

Dave wishes his arm wasn’t in a cast, so he could take both of Karkat’s hands right now. Instead, he just keeps squeezing the one he’s already holding as he stares into Karkat’s eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you like they did,” Dave says, “And if I do, I already gave all of your friend’s permission to set my ass straight so I can knock whatever I did to fuck that up the fuck out so I can go back to trying my damn hardest to be Prime Boyfriend Material. Farm fresh, grade A, never frozen, never-throws-dishes, never-pressures-for-sex...just an all-around well-adjusted and fuckin’ non-toxic and healthy life partner.”

-

Dave smooths down Karkat’s defensiveness with kind words and soft kisses to his hand and Karkat realizes how fucking stupid he’s being. Of course Dave isn’t like that; Karkat can’t imagine Dave actively trying to hurt anyone ever. He’s just… too exhausted to have a grip on himself today, or something. 

He brings Dave’s hand to his mouth and kisses it just like Dave did his, then leans in to pepper kisses across Dave’s face.

“I know you won’t,” Karkat says, eyes soft. “I’m not going to hurt you either. Mutual healthy life partnership up in here.”

He sits back and reaches out to run his hand through Dave’s hair, trailing it along his face to cup his cheek.

“Sorry for flying off the handle there,” he says. “I don’t know what the fuck is up with me today. It feels like rational thoughts keep dripping out my ears like a fucking melted slushie and all that’s left is anxiety.”

It’s probably a combination of work being shitty and mentally psyching himself up about making sure his friends didn’t maim Dave at first sight. He was overreacting as usual, it seemed, because everything went suspiciously well, with the exception of the girls kidnapping his boyfriend. At least Kanaya had to work tonight and couldn’t make it.

-

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Dave says, “Just having some nasty anxiety days, it’s chill. Sometimes you just gotta ride it out, y’know?”

Dave pulls Karkat in by the shoulders, leaning back down so that Karkat can lay out on his chest again. He goes right back to running his fingers through Karkat’s hair.

“But I would like to help with it, if I can,” Dave says, “So just tell me whatever it is you need when you have these kinda days and I’ll do what I can.”

He kisses Karkat’s hair.

“And if what you need right now is a big fuckin’ cuddle sesh and your hair played with, I think I can totally vibe with that.”

-

If Karkat keeps going on about how Dave is too good for him Dave will probably get annoyed as fuck, eventually. Even worse, he might realize that Karkat is right and dump his sorry ass. So he keeps it to himself, rubbing his cheek against Dave’s soft shirt as he buries his hand in Karkat’s hair.

Tension and stress drain from him thanks to Dave’s long, talented fingers, and he sighs. 

“This is perfect,” he mumbles. “Exactly what I need.”

He watches the tv unseeingly as Dave carefully traverses his curls, no doubt making them even more unruly, which Dave seems to fucking love doing. Karkat would be annoyed if it didn’t feel so damn good.

It’s still early days in their relationship; still the honeymoon period. Eventually the other shoe will drop, and Dave will realize that Karkat’s just various anxieties and neuroses held together by anger and sheer force of will. But Karkat’s starting to think that he might stick around anyway, when he does.

-

Dave watches the movie in a state of half-focus. While his eyes are on the screen, his attention is actually on his hand in Karkat’s hair. Making sure he’s pressing into pressure points correctly, repeating all the motions he knows turns Karkat into a limp noodle under his touch.

With the relaxed movie playing in the background, Karkat’s weight pressed on top of him, and his scent filling his nose and calming him like it’s a pheromone for an anxious dog, Dave starts to feel just as relaxed as if he were the one receiving the head massage instead of giving it.

All these factors eventually pull him into a hazy state until his eyes are so heavy he can’t keep them open and his hand goes limp in Karkat’s hair as he falls asleep.

-

Karkat feels like he’s melting into a puddle with Dave’s attention on him, running deft fingers over his scalp. His fingers get lazier and lazier until they finally stop, and it takes a concentrated effort for Karkat to move his head so he’s gazing up at Dave with bleary eyes.

Dave is asleep, face relaxed and calm. Karkat traces his eyes over his cheekbones, his freckles and lips, his jawline, the few scars he has on his face. He’s so fucking attractive it’s unbelievable. People like Dave exist in stories, in movies and novels, not in real life. 

Unfortunately his neck is at a weird angle, and if Karkat lets him stay like this he’ll definitely wake up in pain. He carefully stands up and stretches awareness back into his limbs, then scoops Dave up in his arms. 

His boyfriend stirs and Karkat kisses his forehead, whispering, “I got you; go back to sleep, baby.”

When he stills once more, Karkat carries him into the hallway. John walks out of the bathroom and stops, taking them in. There’s a glint in his eyes that says Dave will be hearing about this later. John opens his big stupid mouth to say something idiotic, no doubt, and wake Dave up, but Karkat shoots him an impressive glare and his mouth clicks shut. He crosses the hall to his room and gives Karkat a thumbs up paired with a big goofy grin, and shuts his door.

Karkat rolls his eyes, continuing on his way. He reaches Dave’s room and gently nudges the door shut, then places Dave on the bed. His eyes slit open and Karkat smiles, pressing his lips to Dave’s nose.

Dave’s eyes slip shut again and Karkat tugs the blanket up over him. He crawls into bed from the other side and wraps himself around his boyfriend, breathing him in and enjoying the quiet, soft atmosphere. He’s not sure if sleep will come to him tonight, but he’ll stay here until it does or the sun filters in through the blinds.

-

Dave stirs awake when he feels himself getting lifted off the couch. He doesn’t even get a chance to open his eyes before Karkat kisses his forehead.

 _I got you_ , he says. Dave hums, and is back to sleep before he hears another word.

He stirs a little when he feels himself being put back down. Oh, did Karkat carry him to bed? That’s the cutest and most domestic fucking shit ever, what the fuck. He peeks his eyes open a little and catches the hazy image of his boyfriend’s handsome smile before Karkat leans down to kiss his nose.

He feels Karkat pull the blanket over him, and before he can ask Karkat to stay, Karkat’s already sliding in beside him and holding Dave close.

 _I love you, I love you,_ Dave wants to say. And he can now, he can say that whenever he wants. He can tell Karkat that he loves him and see Karkat smile and say it back, because he does. Karkat loves him. Karkat carries him to bed when he falls asleep and he crawls in beside him even when he’s probably not tired whatsoever because Dave sucks and can’t stay awake to give him a head massage.

He wants to say sorry for falling asleep, for not making sure Karkat fell asleep before he did, yet again. But his eyes won’t open and his mouth won’t move, and less than a minute later he’s back asleep.

Dave wakes up sometime later, and turns his head to look at his digital clock. It had still been pretty early in the evening when Dave had crashed, but he’d still managed to sleep through until 5am. As his senses come back to him, he realizes he’s gotta use the washroom. He looks over at Karkat, who’s asleep beside him, curled up on his side.

Dave smiles. He’s not sure if Karkat ever got up through the night—maybe he just managed to crawl back into bed—Dave never felt anything. Then again Karkat seemed to be the one thing that never made Dave wake up through the night.

Regardless, Dave is extra careful as he slips out from bed and heads to the washroom. Afterwards he heads out to the kitchen.

John is already there, standing at the counter and eating a bowl of Fruit Loops. John doesn’t look surprised to see Dave up this early—Dave was an early riser, after all. John had tried to be quiet when he got ready for class or work in the mornings, but either way Dave woke up. Sometimes Dave woke up before John did and dragged his ass out of bed if he slept through or forgot to set his alarms—it had certainly saved his ass on more than one occasion.

“Mornin’,” Dave says in greeting as he sets up the percolator.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” John says cheekily. “You look all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your Prince Charming put you to bed last night, did the bridal carry and everything. It was kind of adorable.”

Dave suddenly realizes he’s not wearing his shades. Aw fuck, must have left them on the couch the other night. He’s gotten a lot lazier about wearing them, with Karkat around. Karkat likes seeing his eyes, and Karkat also happens to be the one exception he’ll make for keeping his shades off. John’s seen Dave’s eyes more in the last few weeks than he has all their lives, simply because of Karkat’s presence.

Fuck it. He’ll get them later.

“How long you been up? You see him out here earlier?” Dave asks, deciding to ignore the Sleeping Beauty comment altogether.

John shakes his head. “I’ve been up for about an hour, I didn’t see him,” he says, “Guess he managed to get some sleep last night for once?”

Dave nods, satisfied. “I guess so,” Dave says.

“Oh hey, Jade and Rose were talking about coming over later tonight. Maybe we could do a movie night, order some pizza? We could watch that movie I told you about the other night!” John says excitedly.

“Oh, shit. Yeah, dude, sounds awesome.” Dave says as he heads to the fridge. Hmm, maybe he could try to make some breakfast?

“Is Karkat free tonight? He’s welcome to join us, of course.” John says.

“Yeah, he’s off today, I think.” Dave says.

“Great! This’ll be fun!”

Dave shoots John a look as he shuts the fridge. It’s not the first time Dave’s had to scold John for being noisy while Karkat’s still in bed. John clamps his lips shut and offers Dave an apologetic smile.

John finishes up his cereal, grabs his school bag and then he’s headed off for class. Dave roots through the cupboards some more, trying to think of what he can make that would be manageable with one hand.

There’s some hashbrowns in the freezer. Alright, that was easy enough. Dave rips open the bag and then sets a pan on the stove with some oil. He dumps half the bag of hashbrowns into the pan, and once they’ve started to cook through, he goes back to the fridge and grabs a few eggs. He cracks them one-handed right into the hashbrowns—he’s gotten real good at cracking eggs one-handed. He was determined enough to be able to cook eggs on his own that he picked up the skill real quick.

Dave throws some cayenne pepper into the hashbrown and egg mixture, and calls that as good as it’s going to get. He scoops out half of the potato-and-egg stir fry into a bowl. By this point the coffee is ready, so Dave pours a mug of that. He balances the bowl on top of the mug (another thing he’s gotten pretty good at) and carries it off to his bedroom.

It’s not exactly breakfast in bed with a cute little tray or whatever the fuck, but hopefully Karkat appreciates it anyway.

Karkat is still asleep when Dave comes back into the room. He carefully sets down the mug and the bowl on the bedside table, sits down on the end of the bed, and runs his fingers through Karkat’s hair, pushing the hair from his eyes.

“Rise and shine, baby.” Dave says softly as Karkat stirs. “I made breakfast.”

-

Karkat manages to drift off to sleep after only two or three hours of laying next to Dave, listening to his heartbeat and trying to keep his brain empty enough for sleep to come. He has nightmares about being trapped in a hospital, growing more and more desperate to get outside because he knows Dave is waiting for him. He’s made it to the exit and is pounding wildly on the door, and he hears Dave’s voice, saying _I made breakfast_ and Karkat--

opens his eyes.

It takes a long moment for his sleepy, confused panic to pass. Dave is looking down at him, smiling, hand brushing Karkat’s curls from his forehead. The smell of food and coffee reaches him and Karkat takes a deep breath, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, babe,” he says, voice rough from disuse. He clears his throat. “Is that coffee for me?”

He sits up, propping himself against the headboard. Instead of reaching for the coffee he pulls Dave into a hug, taking solace in the fact that Dave is here, in his arms, not separated by some bullshit magic dream anxiety. And on top of that, he appears to have brought Karkat breakfast in bed, which might be the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for him. Fuck Karkat loves him so much.

He gives Dave a closed-mouth kiss, so he doesn’t subject his boyfriend to his morning breath.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks.

-

When Karkat wakes up Dave can tell right away something is up. Karkat’s eyes look far away, and not just with the haziness of sleep but in the way they do when Dave pulls Karkat out from his more intense nightmares. Dave suspicions are confirmed when Karkat sits up and immediately pulls Dave in for a hug.

Aw, his poor Karkles. Dave wraps his arm around Karkat’s middle and kisses Karkat’s shoulder, which is all he can reach with Karkat squeezing his arms around him.

Karkat pulls away and gives Dave a kiss, and then asks _Dave_ if _he_ slept okay.

Dave blinks a few times, befuddled. Then a crooked smile pulls at his lips and he snorts out a surprised laugh, bending down to bump his forehead against Karkat’s chest.

“The fuck, dude?” Dave asks, bewildered. “I slept just fine, you absolute dingbat.”

Dave sits up, giving his head a little shake. He kisses Karkat on the nose and then leans over and picks up the bowl of hashbrowns and eggs, and pushes it into Karkat’s hands.

“Another hospital dream, huh?” Dave asks, trying to keep his tone light and casual, but there’s a soft understanding in his eyes.

-

Dave calls him a dingbat in a fond, bewildered sort of tone, which Karkat thinks is incredibly unnecessary. He was just asking after his boyfriend. But Dave hands him the food and coffee, and any sort of comeback is halted by it. He takes a sip of the coffee first. Dave has successfully bullied him into taking a bit of milk with his coffee, and it does taste better, but he’ll never drink the sugary caramel shit that Dave likes.

“Yeah,” Karkat says, avoiding Dave’s eyes. Would it be weird, telling Dave that he was in Karkat’s dream? Probably. Maybe not if it was like, a sexy dream or something; Dave would probably enjoy hearing about that. “You’d think I’d be over it by now and my brain would move on to more current anxieties but no, trapped in a hospital it is.”

Fuck his stupid traumatized brain, honestly. The least it could do is throw in some variety.

He takes a bite of his food and nudges Dave with his shoulder.

“Thanks for breakfast, babe,” he says. “You didn’t have to. I could have made you something.”

He leans in to kiss Dave’s cheek and smiles at him before returning to eating his meal.

-

“You’re welcome, sugar.” Dave says.

He smiles brightly when Karkat kisses him on the cheek. Fuck yeah. Karkat tells him that Dave doesn’t have to bring his amazing boyfriend breakfast in bed, but Dave elects to just ignore the fuck out of that stupid statement altogether, because yes he most certainly does have to, thank you very much.

“I guess in some way, it’s a good thing nothing equally as terrible has happened to you that would make you start to have different nightmares,” Dave says with a small shrug, “but on the other hand, it must fuckin’ suck to have the same fucking nightmare all the time. My friend Rose would have a fucking field day picking that apart. She loves analyzing the shit out of all of us, especially what happens in our subconscious minds. I haven’t told her about my dreams since I was like, fourteen.”

Dave pats Karkat’s knee through the blanket. “But you can always talk to me about them. Maybe the more you confront it, and talk about it, the less you’ll start to have them? I don’t know how this shit works. If I had a magical Dream Self I’d just go inside your dream and drag you outta that hospital myself.”

-

Waking up to Dave is the best balm for Karkat’s grumpiness. He’s the exact opposite of a morning person usually, taking at least half an hour and a full cup of coffee to even resemble a human being. But with Dave by his side, bringing him fucking _breakfast in bed_ , fussing over his stupid nightmares, the day doesn’t feel quite so dreadful.

“I’d rather not have a pseudo-psychologist pick at my brain like a hungry bird, thanks,” Karkat says dryly. “Talking to you isn’t as bad, though.”

He sighs. It’s not like Dave is pressing him for info, only offering to listen if Karkat chooses to share. It’s terribly sweet, and Karkat isn’t used to this kind of support, lowkey and not smothering at all. 

“Even if it’s other shit my brain is trying to process it always takes place in a hospital,” he sighs. “It’s just the default location for my dreams, I guess. Late for school? It’s because the hospital is a goddamn maze. A volcanic eruption? The volcano is in the hospital cafeteria. It’s fucking annoying.”

He shovels some food in his mouth and ruminates over why he can’t have normal nightmares like normal people while he chews.

“This one was about being trapped there, I guess,” he says. “I kept asking hospital staff where the exits were but no one would tell me, probably because they didn’t have faces, and every time I found a door it wouldn’t budge. And I knew you were out there waiting for me.”

He bites his lip to keep from saying _and I knew you’d leave if I didn’t get to you soon_. Dave isn’t going to fucking _leave_ him, and he doesn’t need Karkat whining about his stupid anxieties when he’s being so fucking sweet right now.

-

“Oh shit, so I was in the dream?” Dave asks, sounding hopeful. “Well, shit, that’s something, right? Obviously I never starred in your dreams before, but if I’m doing that now, that’s gotta mean something’s trying to give there. Maybe I’m on the other side of the door trying to find my way inside. Maybe I was gearing up to shatter a window or some shit so I could get to you, but I woke you up. I’ll get to you next time.”

Dave says the last part like a promise, as though he could really go into Karkat’s dream and control what Dream Dave could do within it. Who knows, stranger things had happened (though nothing comes to Dave’s mind in that particular moment).

If Dave was Karkat’s soulmate, that had to mean they had some kind of...telepathic connection, right? Otherwise what was the point to all this soulmate shit, if it didn’t give you cool magic powers that could help your soulmate in a crisis.

Dave’s sure if Karkat just opens up a bit about his dreams, he’ll be able to tackle them down and hopefully stop them for good. It would just take time.

Dave still dreams about Houston all the time. Specifically Bro’s apartment. The hallway. The stairwell leading to the roof. The roof itself, hazy in the Texas sun. Hot asphalt under his callused hands.

He knew all about recurring dreams. Being with and talking to Karkat about his had helped Dave a lot. Hopefully Karkat would get the same results, and maybe then they could both sleep through the night. Maybe have some sexy dreams about each other and wake up in the morning and act it all out.

Hell yeah. That was the kind of goal Dave could strive towards.

-

Karkat’s lips twitch up at Dave’s optimism. He leans in to kiss him on the cheek, reaching across him to put down his plate and mug, then tugs Dave into his lap and squeezes his waist. 

“Maybe,” he allows. “I think we were supposed to go on a date or something. Didn’t want you thinking I stood you up.”

He peppers kisses along Dave’s neck and nuzzles his nose into Dave’s hair. It’s gotten even softer now that he’s regularly using conditioner. Kakat thinks this might be his favorite time of day, waking up and getting to cuddle with Dave. Nepeta insists that he’s just a ‘ _big cuddly teddy bear deep down_ ’ and he’ll die before he lets her know that she’s right.

-

Karkat pulls Dave right into his lap and it pulls a pleased, flirtatious hum from Dave. He wraps his arm around Karkat’s shoulders, tilting his head as Karkat presses kisses into his neck.

“Yeah? Then I’ll definitely make sure I get to you next time. Can’t have you missing our date, after all.” Dave says softly.

He looks over at the bowl, which is empty. Looks like Karkat ate it all. Dave’s sure Karkat would choke down anything Dave put in front of him, but it didn’t seem like he had any complaints about it. It was probably pretty bland for his standards, though. Dave should really learn how to cook. Maybe Karkat’s dad could give him some pointers.

“Would you be down for a movie night tonight?” Dave asks while Karkat continues to kiss his neck. He’s quickly finding it difficult to get the words out, so he figured he better bring this up now before he truly melts into a puddle under Karkat’s attention.

“You’d get to meet Jade and Rose. We’re having them over tonight for some pizza and movies.” Dave explains, “How about it?”

-

Karkat wonders if Dave would let him spend hours pressing kisses to every part of him. His neck and shoulders and arms, the spaces between his ribs, his delightfully soft stomach and hips and thighs. He wants to cover Dave in kisses. He’s thinking about this so determinedly that he almost doesn’t hear what Dave says.

Then the words sink in and Karkat tenses.

“You want me to meet your friends?” he asks, eyes widening. “Tonight?”

Karkat doesn’t do well with being caught off guard. John found that out first hand. It took an embarrassingly long time for Karkat to adjust to John’s presence, taking every little thing he said as a slight until it finally sunk in that John, while completely oblivious, is well-meaning. It doesn’t help that he appears to have no fucking idea that Dave was horrifically abused.

And now he’ll have to meet two new people, and be on his best behavior so they don’t fucking hate him and tell Dave to dump him. He hoped he’d get a little more time to prepare. He didn’t even bring over any decent clothes. Fuck, he’ll have to pull out the shit Kanaya got him if he wants to look even remotely deserving of Dave’s affection.

-

Aw fuck, there goes relaxed and happy Karkat. Dave doesn’t even need to be sitting in his lap to feel Karkat’s sudden tension, it’s thick and palpable in the air.

Dave takes his arm from around Karkat’s shoulder and runs it through his hair, tucking some curls behind his ear.

“Yeah, tonight. Sorry, dude, John literally sprung it on me before he left this morning.” Dave says apologetically.

Shit, Karkat looks like a deer caught in headlights right now. Dave just met Karkat’s friends yesterday, and even with several days to prepare Karkat was a bundle of nerves. It makes sense he’d automatically get nervous at the idea of meeting Dave’s friends literally the next day. Not even a chance for a cool down.

“If you’re not down for it, it’s chill. You and I can just dip outta here before they get here and have a li’l date night. Go for a drive somewhere, kill a couple hours. I’m sure they won’t stay too late.” Dave gives a little shrug.

Maybe if he elicits Absolute Chill it’ll rub off on his boyfriend and help him feel more at ease. Especially if he gives Karkat a chance to back out. It was only fair—Karkat made the same offer to Dave multiple times before they went to Terezi’s. It just made sense for Dave to give Karkat the same—especially since he was springing this on him out of the blue.

“If you wanna do somethin’ just the two of us, that’s totally cool,” Dave assures him, “Whatever you wanna do, we’ll do.”

And he means it. He honestly wouldn’t even be disappointed. He’d be spending his night with Karkat either way, and he’d prefer to spend it with a Karkat who’s not two seconds away from a meltdown, if he can help it. And if that meant postponing Karkat meeting the rest of his friends, Dave was totally fine with that. It was pretty last minute, after all. Even Dave feels a little nervous about the idea.

-

Karkat tries to calm down. Dave is running a soothing hand through his curls, giving Karkat an out with a carefully bland voice. Karkat thinks Dave won’t even be pissed if Karkat takes it, even though he should be. 

“No, I want to. I want to meet them,” he says. He lets his head drop to Dave’s shoulder. “I just always make shitty first impressions. It’s a fucking curse.”

What if they hate him? Karkat knows Dave wouldn’t dump him on the spot, but getting along with your significant other’s friends is a huge thing in relationships. Karkat will settle for them tolerating him; it’s likely the best he can hope for.

“Do you know what time?” he asks hesitantly. He doesn’t know how early it is and he doesn’t know if Kanaya is working today. He’ll need to message her ASAP regardless and see if she can work her magic on his fucking ridiculous hair. Even she isn’t able to get it to behave, but she can make it look _acceptable_ , at least. It’s a point of contention between them; Kanaya has an ongoing war with his hair. She takes it very personally. So far his hair is winning.

-

Karkat says he wants to meet them, and Dave knows that of course, but Karkat still looks nervous as fuck so that really doesn’t quell Dave’s own anxieties on the matter.

Dave will just have to do his best to make Karkat feel as ready and relaxed about this as he can get. He rubs the back of Karkat’s neck and turns his head to press a kiss into Karkat’s unruly, adorable bedhead.

“Hey now, you hit me with your fuckin’ car when we first met, and look at us now.” Dave says, “You’d think my whole being your soulmate thing would have made our fateful first encounter a little more romantic...but damn if it wasn’t memorable. Anyway, s’long as you don’t get into any vehicular trouble with the girls, it’ll be fine.”

He rubs his hand up and down Karkat’s back.

“I don’t know what time, but I’ll text John and ask, okay?” Dave says, “It’s not gonna be until later tonight for sure, though. John’s not even off work until...five, I think. So we got lots of time to chill with just the two of us until then.”

-

Karkat nods into Dave’s shoulder with a sigh. Not until five or six, at least. He can work with that. That should be plenty of time for Kanaya to wage her war. If she’s even available. Fuck.

Karkat lifts his head and kisses along Dave’s jaw lightly.

“Thanks, baby,” he says. “I’m okay. I have to talk to Kanaya though.”

He reaches over, doing his best not to dislodge Dave from his lap, and grabs his phone from the charging cord on the bedside table. It’s almost 6 in the morning, which means Kanaya probably isn’t even awake yet, but Karkat taps out a frantic message begging for her help anyway. She’ll see it when she wakes up, and Karkat will anxiously check his phone every ten minutes until then.

For now, he drops his phone on the bed next to him and returns his hands to Dave’s waist.

“Did you eat yet?” Karkat asks. He wouldn’t put it past Dave to bring Karkat breakfast before he even ate his own.

-

Dave shakes his head. “Nah, I left some of what I made out in the pan, though.” he says.

Dave isn’t sure why Karkat needs to talk to Kanaya—she’s the one Dave hasn’t met yet, so he’s not sure what she’s like. Maybe she’s the one calm and rational person in Karkat’s circle, and she’ll be able to calm Karkat down in a way Dave hasn’t perfected yet. And maybe never will. Maybe Karkat needs the help of a friend right now, and not a boyfriend.

Dave is starting to feel a bit hungry, but he also doesn’t want to get up from Karkat’s lap. But he also doesn’t want to stick around if Karkat needs to be alone to calm down, or to talk with Kanaya. He seemed pretty urgent to talk with her.

Instead of asking something awkward like _do you need me to leave_ , Dave wraps his arm back around Karkat and presses a kiss to his lips. He’ll stick around until Karkat tells him otherwise. His stomach grumbles in protest, but Dave ignores it. It’s Kissing Karkat Time.

-

Dave kisses him, and Karkat will never say no to Dave kisses. But his stomach growls audibly and Karkat can’t help but smile. His concern for Dave trumps his own anxiety, as usual.

“You have to eat, shithead,” he says fondly. Dave doesn’t seem like he plans to move anytime soon, though, so Karkat rolls his eyes, slips his hands down to Dave’s ass, and stands up. Dave’s legs wrap around him and he lets out a startled noise. Karkat keeps kissing him, little pecks of the lips, as he carries Dave to the kitchen.

When they reach the stove, however, Dave keeps clinging to him. Karkat laughs.

“C’mon, off,” he says. “We can kiss as much as you want after you eat and we brush our teeth. I’ll even carry you back to the bedroom.”

-

Karkat tells Dave he has to eat, which is stupid and dumb and so not true. Dave can eat later, the food in the pan isn’t going anywhere, after al—ohgodheisintheair

Dave makes a very uncool and undignified noise when Karkat scoops him up by the ass and gets out of bed. Despite knowing Karkat would never let Dave fall, Dave still scrambles to hook his arm around Karkat’s neck and his legs around Karkat’s waist and hold on for dear life as Karkat walks them out to the kitchen. He keeps kissing Dave as he goes, which is very distracting, but Dave does not care.

Karkat stops in front of the stove but Dave stubbornly holds on, continuing to press little kisses to Karkat’s jaw. His heart goes light and fuzzy as Karkat laughs. This was so much better than Karkat being all tense and nervous.

But Karkat finally tells Dave to get off, so he reluctantly does so. Only because Karkat promised more kisses later. Dave unhooks his legs and Karkat carefully sets him down.

“So how was your breakfast?” Dave says, looking down at the leftover portion of egg and hashbrown mixture in the pan. “I’m open to criticism. I’m trying to be the best bed and breakfast there is.”

-

Karkat backs Dave against the stove. It’s not helping his goal of getting Dave to eat, but he’s allowed to get a little distracted, he thinks. Besides, they’re in the kitchen now, that’s progress.

He runs his hands up and down Dave’s sides, leaning in to bite at the shell of Dave’s ear, basking in the little gasp it elicits. 

“It was good, babe,” he says, kissing the soft skin below Dave’s ear. “Thank you. I’ll leave a 5 star yelp review, tell all my friends.”

He drops one more kiss there and pulls away, turning to search the cupboard for a bowl. When he finds one he passes it to Dave with a raised eyebrow. 

“Try it yourself,” he says pointedly.

Dave’s been helping him out in the kitchen as much as Karkat allows. It’s really fucking sweet, honestly, and once Dave gets his cast off Karkat is going to have him cooking full meals in no time.

-

Karkat pins Dave between himself and the stove, and that’s hot. Then he’s rubbing up and down Dave’s sides, and leaning in to bite his ear, and _that’s_ hot. Then he’s talking low and soft into Dave’s ear as he kisses at his neck, and that’s _also_ hot.

Then Karkat’s pulling away and Dave blinks rapidly, dazed. Karkat shoves a bowl into Dave’s hands and tells Dave to eat. But now Dave _really_ isn’t hungry.

Not for breakfast, at least.

But he obliges, turning around with a soft pout and scooping the last of what’s in the pan into the bowl. It’s still somewhat warm, so he doesn’t bother nuking it in the microwave or reheating it in the pan. He just takes a bite.

Pretty decent, all things considered. But still not all that flavourful.

“Not bad,” Dave says, “Yours is still better, though.”

-

Dave pouts and it’s fucking adorable. Karkat tugs him close, so Dave’s back is against his chest, and hums contentedly, hooking his chin over Dave’s shoulder while he eats. He’s feeling real fucking cuddly this morning, and he’s not afraid that Dave is going to push him away or get annoyed with him. 

“It could use some spices,” Karkat says. “Maybe some chopped onion. If you want I can teach you how to cook a few things once your cast comes off.”

Only if Dave wants. Karkat has no problem at all cooking food for Dave and soaking in the praise it brings for the rest of his life. But Dave seems eager to help Karkat with anything, anytime, and Karkat isn’t sure if he’s actually interested or if he’s worried about being a burden. Which is ridiculous, because Dave does more for Karkat than Karkat can ever possibly make up for.

-

Karkat presses up against Dave’s back and Dave automatically melts into the embrace, smiling as he chews his bite when Karkat rests his chin on Dave’s shoulder.

His boyfriend is an absolute cuddle bug, but there are some days when he’s even more cuddly than usual. Dave _fucking loves_ those days, and feels like a giddy little schoolgirl whenever they occur. He always keeps it to himself, however, out of fear Karkat would get shy about it and stop. That would be the fucking worst.

It’s Dave’s own secret little happiness. So he just quietly enjoys his boyfriend’s closeness and warmth as he finishes his food.

“Mm, yeah. Some onion really woulda made this shit pop off.” Dave muses. “Once I get this fuckin’ cast off I am gonna go all Master Chef up in this bitch. Choppin’ onions so fast I don’t even shed a tear. Making my man all kinds of home-cooked meals like I’m a dutiful little housewife.”

-

Dave lets Karkat tug him around and lay all over him, and he never voices a single complaint. If Dave said _could you give me some fucking space for a single goddamn minute_ but like, in Dave-speak, Karkat wouldn’t blame him, but instead he relaxes into Karkat’s chest. Karkat is the luckiest motherfucker in the entire world.

He kisses Dave’s cheek. It’s entirely not enough to convey his feelings but it will suffice for now.

“Yeah?” Karkat asks, smiling at the mental image his brain cooks up, heart squeezing when Dave says _my man_. It’s stupid but he loves it. “Are you gonna wear a dress and an apron too?”

-

Dave smirks around his fork as he takes his last bite of food. Oohlala, would Karkat be into that shit? Dave wearing a dress? Or maybe an apron with nothing underneath? Maybe a tight little skirt, something that’d show off Dave’s long legs—

Huh. Turns out _Dave_ might very well be into that shit. Well, time to test the field.

Dave sets down his bowl, and then curves the small of his back a little so his ass grinds up against Karkat’s hips, brushing teasingly over his dick. Karkat’s not hard, but Dave is determined to remedy that situation.

“You wanna see me in a little skirt?” Dave purrs out, turning his head so he can press his mouth to Karkat’s ear. “Something you can easily push out of the way so you can bend me over the counter?”

-

Karkat sucks in a deep breath as Dave grinds his ass against him. He doesn’t consider himself kinky--it’s kind of hard to, with the friends he keeps-- but god, Dave would look good in a skirt, with his mile long legs on display. And Dave seems into it; Karkat would probably try anything if Dave wanted to.

“You wanna get dressed up for me, baby?” he asks, hands moving from Dave’s waist to his hips, gripping them firmly as Dave rolls them back, wiggling his cute little ass against Karkat’s crotch. “You look good in everything, but you’d look great in a skirt. You gonna wear panties for me, too?”

Oh, huh. The thought of Dave in little lace panties makes Karkat’s dick twitch in interest. There’s something he didn’t know about himself. His dick is quickly filling out, and Karkat grinds it into Dave’s ass and licks a stripe up his neck.

-

Ohh, holy mother of fuck.

Dave gives a soft little sigh when Karkat grips firmly to his hips and starts talking all low and seductive in Dave’s ear. Christ, that wasn’t fair. Dave could get off with Karkat just whispering dirty things into his ear, he’s sure of it.

Then Karkat mentions Dave wearing panties and

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

It’s like a fucking box lights up in Dave’s head that reads New Kink Unlocked, because holy sweet shit did that just do the trick. Wearing fucking panties wasn’t something Dave had even considered. Then again, he’s never thought about wearing a skirt until just now, either. Both ideas are enticing, but the idea of wearing panties...or better yet, wearing panties that _Karkat bought for him…_

Oh, god. Oh fuck. Shit. That was way too fucking hot. What the fuck.

Dave can’t help it. He bucks his hips to press his ass against Karkat and fucking whines when he feels that Karkat’s already getting hard. Good to fucking know he isn’t the only one getting off on the idea.

“Only if you buy them for me, baby,” Dave says, voice soft and breathy. “You’d know what’d look best on me. You could make me put them on whenever you wanted. Or even better, I could put them on and I wouldn’t even have to tell you when I did it. Just let it be a little surprise when you undressed me. Or I could pull down my waistband and let you get a little peek, so you’d have to sit there all day knowing I’m wearing what you bought for me...”

-

Oh, there’s an idea he likes. Buying Dave a nice, expensive pair of panties, having him model them for him, mouthing at his dick through the fabric until Dave cums, then pulling them aside so Karkat can fuck him after. Or maybe he’ll keep licking and sucking until Dave’s hard again and then ride him into the mattress. Either works for him.

Unfortunately Karkat thinks Dave would be a bit upset if he went off to look up lingerie stores right now, and Karkat doesn’t want to get in the habit of disappointing his incredible boyfriend. So he nips at Dave’s ear and moves a hand around to palm at Dave’s crotch, rubbing him through his shorts. He never changed into his pajamas, since he passed the fuck out on the couch and Karkat carried him to bed because he’s a fucking gentleman.

“You’re always such a fucking tease, baby,” Karkat says fondly, amusement in his tone. An idea sparks in his mind. “If you like teasing me so much, how about you model those panties for me and get yourself off while I watch? I’ll sit there and _look_ at you. You’re so fucking beautiful, Dave, I could stare at you for hours.”

-

Dave jolts when Karkat nips at his ear and then he’s slipping a hand down to grab Dave through his shorts. Dave’s dick was absolutely getting intrigued by all this lingerie talk, and it only perks up even more when Karkat starts rubbing against it. Dave bites his lip, unsure of whether to roll his hips backwards to keep grinding his ass on Karkat’s hard cock, or to press himself into Karkat’s touch.

He lets out another little whine when Karkat calls him a _fucking tease_ —god, that’s hot—and the whine only gets drawn out as Karkat continues to speak.

Fuck. Fuuuuck. Modelling the panties for Karkat was one thing—that was just, like, an inevitability. Obviously he would put on a little fashion show for Karkat, maybe sit in Karkat’s lap and wiggle his hips, let Karkat grab and squeeze his lace-covered ass.

But touching himself while Karkat just...watched? Why the fuck hadn’t they done that yet? That was the hottest fucking shit. Dave always had kind of a Thing for humiliation, he’s not even really fucking sure why. It’s why public sex appealed to him so much. The idea of getting caught was such a fucking thrill he almost wished it would happen. For some random person to come across Karkat fucking him against a wall, walking in right as Dave was cumming, shooting his load onto the bricks. Dave’s pretty sure it would just make him cum harder.

It’s probably why the whole skirt/panty thing appeals to him, too. The taboo of it all. I mean, fuck the gender binary, right? There was nothing actually wrong with Dave wearing skirts and lingerie, but it still goes against everything he was raised around. The ideal image of ‘cool’, of ‘manliness’.

And having Karkat just sit there and watch while Dave sprawled out on the bed and enjoyed his new panties? Touched himself through the lace, moaning at the feeling of it against his sensitive skin. Peeling down the thin little garment just enough to pop his cock out and start jerking off.

All while Karkat just...sat across the room.

Maybe have his fucking hands tied up so he can’t touch himself. All he can do is watch.

“Fuuck-k, baby...” Dave moans, rolling his hips against Karkat’s hands, “Love having you watch me...I’d put on a good show for you, make it real worth your while—get you so fucking desperate to touch me, to fuck me...”

-

Dave whines and gasps deliciously, rubbing his dick against Karkat’s palm as Karkat grinds his own against Dave’s ass, hand tightening around his hip. He bites at Dave’s neck and then licks at the spot while Dave talks.

And Dave _would_ put on a show for Karkat. He remembers Dave leaning back on his lap, rolling his entire body onto Karkat’s cock. He likes showing off, likes being looked at, and Karkat is entirely willing to be his captive audience.

“Would you let me touch myself while I watched?” Karkat asks, slipping his hand into Dave’s shorts to wrap around his dick. “You’re too fucking gorgeous, baby, it would be hard to resist, especially if you’re in a pretty pair of panties with a skirt bunched up around your waist. But I think I could manage if you told me to.”

Dave generally doesn’t take charge much when they have sex, and it’s not because he doesn’t like it. Karkat doesn’t entirely understand why, but he’ll give Dave all the opportunities he wants to boss Karkat around in the bedroom, to fuck Karkat until his mind goes blank and hazy. He likes that just as much. He likes anything if it’s with Dave.

-

Dave quickly shakes his head when Karkat asks if he’d be able to touch himself, thinking back to his idea of having Karkat being tied up.

What would they tie Karkat with? A belt, maybe? Or maybe—

“If I’m your little wife, wearin’ the cute panties you bought for me...then you get to be—haahh—the sexy hubby in a suit and tie.”

Dave isn’t sure what’s fucking hotter. Him wearing panties, or Karkat in a suit.

Ohhh god, or Karkat in panties and Dave in a suit. Man, this was the kink that just kept on giving.

“Would keep your hands bound with your own tie,” Dave goes on, rolling his head to the side so Karkat can better get to his neck. “Make you sit there and watch me play with myself… mmnn—u-use all my toys...all while you just sit there with a big fuckin’ tent in your nice dress pants. You could beg and moan and tell me how bad you want me, but that would just make me play with myself even more.”

-

Fuck, that would be so hot. Karkat doesn’t think he even has a suit, but he’s certainly considering getting one now.

“Mmm,” Karkat hums, pulling his hand out of the shorts and holding it in front of Dave’s mouth, letting him lick it slick and going right back to pumping Dave’s dick, picking the pace up. “I’d want you so bad, Dave. You don’t know what you do to me. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I don’t know if I could handle not being able to touch you.”

It is a good idea, it’s an excellent idea. Karkat will fucking commission Kanaya for a pair of panties if he has to.

“Would you touch me, baby?” he asks, sucking bruising kisses along Dave’s neck. “When you finished? Would you kiss me?”

Dave wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny him kisses, would he?

-

Karkat takes his hand off Dave’s dick and brings it up to Dave’s mouth and Dave automatically kisses and licks over Karkat’s fingers, like his mind knows exactly what Karkat wants of him without Karkat even having to tell him. Maybe their soulmate telepathy only worked when they were getting their freak on? It was something to consider.

“Mhhhmmnnnn,” Dave moans while nodding shakily, making little gasps as Karkat goes back to stroking his dick.

Dave leans his head against Karkat’s, turning around to press sloppy kisses into Karkat’s hair as he bucks his hips into Karkat’s hand.

“Y-yea-aah, I wo-would...— _ohfuck_ —I would...come and sit in your lap afterwards and k-kiss you...” Dave presses his lips together as Karkat rubs his thumb over his slit, swiping up a bead of precum.

“Kiss you all over, gettin’ lube and cum all over your pants...run my hands down your big...fuckin’ sexy chest...slowly unbutton your shirt. Take off your belt...get down on my knees and pull out your cock and suck you off like a good wife should...”

Man, he’s really into the whole ‘wife’ shit, huh? Really leaning into the feminization, but as long as Karkat’s into it Dave couldn’t give a shit. Hell, if it turns Karkat on even more, he’ll crank that shit right up to eleven.

Dave isn’t sure what makes his belly squirm more about the scenario. Getting to be Karkat’s wife, or Karkat being his husband...

-

Dave keeps talking about being his _wife_ , and Karkat can roll with that. It makes his chest feel tight, the things that come attached to that. Him and Dave being _married_ , vowing to be together for the rest of their lives. He ruts up harder against Dave, hand moving quicker. 

“Keep me tied up the whole time,” he pants lightly. “Just have to take what you give me, know that my wife is gonna take good care of me. _Fuck_ , Dave, baby, your mouth looks perfect around my cock.”

It’s weird, calling Dave his wife. Weird but good, he thinks. Dave can be his wife all he wants, can prance around in dresses or skirts or pants or shorts or nothing at all and Karkat will still be struck breathless by how fucking amazing he looks. 

The hand holding Dave’s hip relents, slipping up Dave’s shirt to thumb at his nipple. Karkat could do this all day, let Dave fall apart in his hands, get him off until his legs are too shaky to stand and then hoist him up and fuck him in the air while Dave weakly holds on. There are so many things he wants to do to Dave, _with_ Dave, so many things he wants Dave to do to him.

“I love you, Dave,” Karkat says softly. “My perfect, beautiful wife. My soulmate. All mine.”

-

God, the idea of keeping Karkat tied up while Dave sucked his cock or rode him on the chair is stupid fucking hot. He wouldn’t untie Karkat until Karkat came. Dave wonders what Karkat would do at that point, once he was finally free. Would he throw Dave down on the bed and ravish him until he filled out again and go right back to fucking him? God, Dave hopes so.

Just thinking about it brings Dave even closer to the edge. He lets out a little gasp when Karkat’s thumb flicks over his nipple, and it melts into a desperate moan when Karkat tells him in such a soft fucking voice that he loves him, says _all mine_ —

That does Dave in. With a hitched breath, his hips jolt and a shudder rolls up his back and he cums, toes curling into the floor, his arm coming up to cup at the back of Karkat’s head to hold himself upright as his legs shiver with his release.

“Fuck, oh god, Karkat, baby—“ Dave pants, kisses wherever he can reach over and over while he comes down from his high, whimpering helplessly. “Christ, so fuckin’ hot, baby—fuck—“

-

The only regret Karkat has is that he isn’t able to see Dave’s face in this position. But he feels his body tense, the way he trembles and his voice stutters, feels the wetness on his fingers. He keeps stroking until Dave whines, then pulls his hand out and spins Dave around for a proper fucking kiss, clean hand fisting in Dave’s hair.

“Love you,” he gasps out, shoving a hand into his pajama pants to fist around himself as Dave comes down. “ _Loveyouloveyouloveyou_.”

It only takes a few desperate slides of his hand until he’s moaning into Dave’s mouth and cumming all over his hand. His body goes taut as pleasure pulses through him and then he leans heavily on Dave, who’s not recovered enough to hold him up so they collapse gracelessly to the ground, Karkat’s hand protecting Dave’s head from the floor.

Karkat lays still for a moment, half on top of his boyfriend, stunned, and then laughs. He takes his hand out of his pants and looks at it consideringly, then licks some of the cum off. His and Dave’s jizz mixed together. Hm.

He props himself up on his elbow and wiggles his fingers in front of Dave’s mouth.

“Clean me up, wifey?” he asks teasingly.

-

Karkat pumps Dave’s cock until Dave goes totally soft in his hand and Dave whines at the overstimulation. Then Karkat’s grabbing Dave by the shoulder and turning him around to kiss him properly on the mouth. Dave melts right into the kiss, bringing his hand up to clutch at Karkat’s shirt.

His boyfriend says _love you_ like a mantra as he follows Dave to the edge and cums in his pyjama pants. Dave is very grateful to have a partner who’s happy to join him in Pants Cum Town, so he doesn’t have to be alone.

Karkat leans forward and Dave isn’t expecting the weight. Even if he’d braced for it, he’s not sure his legs would have held out. They crumble underneath Dave and the two of them both collapse to the floor rather unceremoniously. Karkat still manages to make sure he not only protects Dave’s head from smacking into the kitchen tile, but he also doesn’t land on his cast.

When Karkat laughs, Dave joins in. That had to be one of the silliest but also hottest things they’d done yet. Karkat brings his jizz-covered hand up to his mouth and licks off some of the cum, and Dave’s mirth automatically melts away into a look of dazed, aroused awe.

So when Karkat holds out his hand to Dave, waggling his cum-covered fingers towards Dave’s mouth, Dave quickly reaches up and grabs Karkat’s wrist and pulls his hand the rest of the way to Dave’s waiting mouth.

He makes a showy spectacle of licking off all the cum, taking each one of Karkat’s fingers into his mouth. Dave’s eyes flutter closed and he groans softly at the taste of his and Karkat’s cum both on his tongue. He looks up at Karkat through his lashes when he takes each of his fingers down all the way to the knuckle. When all the cum is cleaned up, Dave licks his lips satisfactorily, and then kisses Karkat on the knuckles.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Dave says lightly, “and also fun and hot as hell. Good fucking morning to me. Nothin’ like starting to the day off right by unlocking a new kink.”

-

Karkat’s breath hitches, smile dropping off his face in favor of a hungry, awed look as Dave licks and sucks his fingers clean. _Fuck_ , how is his boyfriend so mind-bogglingly hot? When he’s done, Karkat takes a moment to snap out of his trance, and then he immediately kisses Dave, slipping into his mouth and tasting the two of them on Dave’s tongue.

“I’m going to buy you the best fucking panties I can find,” Karkat says when he has to break apart to breathe. “Fuck, Dave.”

He reluctantly gets up so he isn’t crushing his boyfriend into the kitchen floor, and helps Dave up as well. He drops a swift kiss to Dave’s temple. 

“I’m gonna shower,” he says. “Want to join me?”

Showering together has quickly become something of a _thing_ for them, and Karkat adores it. It only sometimes devolves into sex, but it’s always intimate and sweet, and Karkat is slowly adjusting to Dave seeing him naked and looking at him like he’s attractive*or some shit. And occasionally, with Dave looking at him like that, he even kind of feels like it. The constant praise and assurance that he’s _hot as fuck, dude, seriously_ also helps.

-

“Actually I think I’ll just sit around in cum-filled underwear all morning—ofcourseIwannajoinyou.”

They head to the shower, Karkat making quick work of peeling both of them out of their clothes and then wrapping and taping the plastic bags around Dave’s arm.

Showering together had become something of a ritual for them. Sometimes Karkat grabbed quick showers by himself after he got off work or something, but anytime Dave had to shower, Karkat joined him (even if he didn’t even need a shower himself).

It wasn’t even about sex, though sometimes they simply couldn’t fucking help themselves. Most of the time they made quick work of it, Karkat helping to wash Dave’s hair and Dave helping Karkat wash his back in return. Sometimes they got through the whole thing without even kissing; they’d be too busy talking. Jabbering away about this and that as though they weren’t currently stark naked and dripping wet in front of the other. It was the kind of level of comfort they’d achieved over the passing weeks, an intimacy that went beyond physicality. It was one of Dave’s favourite parts of being in a relationship with Karkat.

How fucking easy it was being in his presence.

They shower, dry off, grab a fresh change of clothes, and head out to the living room and cozy up on the couch together. Dave’s shades are still on the arm rest from the night before, but Dave decidedly keeps them off.

No reason to have them on with Karkat around. He still had a light-sensitivity, but the apartment was always kept dark thanks to blackout curtains. John wasn’t a fan of the dark reclusiveness, though he made an exception considering Dave’s condition. Thankfully Karkat was just as repelled by bright sunlight as Dave was, so he was happy to keep the curtains pulled tightly drawn.

Looks like they never finished Princess Mononoke last night, so Dave hits resume on the movie, even if it just winds up being more of background noise again. He leans his head on Karkat’s shoulder.

He’s feeling incredibly warm and hazy and relaxed thanks to his orgasm and then a nice hot shower, like he’s sleepy yet refreshed and invigorated all at once.

He’d be happy to just relax here on the couch the rest of the day, until all of his friends got here. Speaking of friends—

“Did you hear back from Kanaya yet?” Dave asks.

-

Karkat is feeling relaxed and warm and happy, with his arm thrown around Dave’s shoulder and Dave leaning into his side while they sit on the couch. Any anxieties he may have had earlier seem far away, at least until Dave asks about Kanaya, and Karkat sits up ramrod straight.

“Oh fuck, _Kanaya_ ,” he says, disentangling himself from his boyfriend so he can dash back to the bedroom and grab his phone, which is vibrating away. He has two missed calls and incoming messages from his friend.

CG: KANAYA THIS IS AN EMERGENCY I NEED YOUR HELP ASAP. I WILL EVEN GRACIOUSLY ALLOW YOU TO RUB MY FACE IN IT LATER BUT I AM IN DESPERATE NEED OF YOUR HELP ONCE AGAIN LIKE THE PATHETIC JACKASS WE BOTH KNOW I AM.

GA: What Kind Of Emergency Could You Possibly Have At Six In The Morning?

GA: Karkat?

GA: It Has Been Over An Hour And I Am Growing Concerned

-missed call-

GA: Karkat

-missed call-

GA: If You Do Not Answer I Will Be Forced To Confer With Our Friends GA: Karkat Please I Am Worried

Oh fuck, he’s the shittiest person on planet.

CG: FUCK, I’M SORRY

CG: I GOT FUCKING DISTRACTED BECAUSE I’M A USELESS, PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A FRIEND

CG: I’M OKAY, NOTHING IS WRONG. YET, ANYWAY. DO YOU WORK TODAY? DAVE IS HAVING ME MEET HIS FRIENDS AND I NEED TO LOOK PASSABLE TO MAKE UP FOR THE SHITTY FIRST IMPRESSION I WILL INEVITABLY MAKE

Kanaya replies almost immediately.

GA: I Am Glad You Are Okay. Please Do Not Worry Me Like That Again

GA: I Do Not Work Today But I Have A Class At Three

CG: FUCK. I’M SO FUCKED. OKAY, THANKS ANYWAY

GA: Would Dave Be Coming? I Have Not Been Able To Meet Him Yet. I Can Skip This Class If Meeting Your Soulmate Is A Possibility

Karkat frowns, fiddling with his phone for a moment. He _wants_ Dave to meet Kanaya, of course he does. But he doesn’t want Dave to see him being dressed up and styled like a doll. It’s fucking humiliating enough without an audience. He really wants to make a good impression on Dave’s friends, however, so he sighs and stands.

“Do you feel up to meeting Kanaya today?” he asks when he enters the living room, not sure what answer he’s hoping for.

-

Mentioning Kanaya was apparently the equivalent of jabbing Karkat with a hot iron brand the way it makes Karkat leap up from the couch. Karkat scrambles out of the room and is gone before Dave’s even flopped into the cushions after the sudden lack of boyfriend to keep him upright.

Karkat’s back in the room less than a minute later, phone in hand, and looking a little apprehensive when he asks Dave if he wants to meet Kanaya.

Dave blinks a couple times as Karkat comes back to the couch and sits down again. Kanaya had work on Monopoly Night, so she was the only one of Karkat’s friends he hadn’t met yet. Dave supposed if Karkat was about to meet the rest of his friends today, it only made sense for him to meet Kanaya today, too.

“Sure, I’m cool with that.” Dave says, “Why the urgency to see Kanaya today? Not that I’m complaining, but...as soon as you agreed to meet Rose and Jade you brought up Kanaya.”

-

Dave looks baffled and Karkat feels a hot wash of embarrassment. Is he so inept that he has to have his friend make him look acceptable? He glances away, cheeks flaming.

“Kanaya’s a fashion designer and stylist,” he explains. “She’s the only one who can make my hair behave even a little bit.”

Dave won’t mock him, Karkat is well aware of this by now. It doesn’t stop him from tensing up, expecting it. It’s not Karkat’s fault that he has wild, uncontrollable hair. Kankri got the better half of the genetics; his hair only has a slight wave to it and Karkat has resented him for it since he was old enough to be self-conscious.

-

Oh right, Karkat did mention before how Kanaya was always making him wear fashionable shirts and whatnot. Karkat hadn’t worn any of his Kanaya Shirts to Monopoly Night the other day since Kanaya wasn’t able to join them, and Dave remembered being rather disappointed about not getting to see his boyfriend all gussied up.

Wait. Did this mean Karkat wanted to gussy up just to meet Dave’s friends?

“Oh man, am I gonna get to watch Kanaya work her magic?” Dave says with a grin. “Fuckin’ sweet.”

Dave reaches over and runs his fingers through Karkat’s hair.

“I like that your hair doesn’t behave,” Dave says, “But if she can make it look even sexier, I certainly won’t complain.”

-

“I don’t know about sexy,” Karkat says, relaxing. He doesn't know how Dave can look at his hair and _not_ think it looks like an unattractive mess, but he appreciates it. “But she makes it look somewhat presentable, at least. One day she’ll snap and kill me herself and it will be because of my hair.”

He looks at his phone and tells Kanaya that Dave will, indeed, be there. She’s ecstatic, which shouldn’t make Karkat nervous but it does, and asks for the address and when she should come over. Karkat blinks, surprised. He thought he’d go to her, but telling Kanaya no is next to impossible.

“Is it okay if she comes over around four?” he asks Dave. “We can go to her place if you want.”

When Dave says that it’s fine, he lets Kanaya know. She tells him that she has new clothes for him and he groans, but sends back his thanks. He wonders if she’d be willing to make him a suit…

-

It’s still early in the day, so Dave and Karkat finish watching Princess Mononoke while cuddled up on the couch together. Then Karkat makes them some lunch and they put on another movie.

Do Dave and Karkat watch way too many fucking movies together? Absolutely. It’s one of their favourite things to do together. They’re mostly in it for the excuse for hours-long cuddle sessions.

It’s a perfectly lazy way to spend the rest of their morning and most of the early afternoon. Eventually four o’ clock rolls around and, right on time, there’s a soft knock at the door.

Dave untangles himself from Karkat and heads over to the door, Karkat right on his heels. He opens the door and finds himself looking up.

Wow. This girl is even taller than Jade. But not nearly as muscular. She’s pale, with cropped black hair perfectly styled into a manageable but trendy pixie cut. She’s long and lean without looking skeletal. The perfect figure for the career path she was in. She has dark green lipstick on, paired with green eyeliner. And she’s making it fucking work.

She also has dozens of bags and hangers hanging off of her thin arms, so much that Dave isn’t sure how she was standing upright.

“Hello,” she says. Her voice somehow sounds melodious and flat all at once. But also incredibly soothing. “You must be Dave. I would shake your hand, but my arms are quite full. I’ll be sure to fulfill the pleasantries once I’ve deposited these somewhere.”

“Uh,” Dave says, stupidly, “Shit, yeah, come on in, all that shit must be heavy.”

Kanaya steps inside and Dave tells her that she can put all her stuff on the couch, since there isn’t really a better place for all of it. She turns around and holds out her hand, showing off long elegant fingers adorned with several silver rings. Dave reaches out and takes her hand, finding himself gawking at the difference in their complexion. Kanaya looks white compared to Dave’s tanned skin. Also, her hands are fucking freezing.

“It is wonderful to finally make your acquaintance, Dave.” Kanaya says.

“Likewise,” Dave says, feeling ineloquent as fuck.

-

Karkat watches Dave take in Kanaya and smirks. She tends to have that effect on people. The smirk falls off his face, however, when she turns towards him, lips pursed and arms on her hips as she takes him in from head to toe. He gives her a deadpan stare, fighting the urge to tug his clothes straight, until she breaks into a beaming smile and sweeps him up into a back-cracking hug.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Karkat,” she says as she pulls back, reaching up to pat at his cheek. “You look well-rested. Have you been sleeping better?”

Karkat rolls his eyes. “Yes, _mom_ , I’ve been sleeping better.”

“Delightful,” she says. She takes a step back and continues, “Now, I understand we’re on something of a time limit. Let’s start with the clothes, shall we?”

Karkat bites back a groan. 

“Kanaya, how many outfits did you bring?” he asks, suddenly feeling very tired. “I only need one.”

She reaches up, delicately and unnecessarily tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, well. I thought you’d appreciate options. And you know I love designing for you.”

Kanaya grabs one of the bags on the couch and unzips it in a smooth motion, revealing a bright red blazer and dark grey pants. She smiles slightly as Karkat’s face scrunches up and sets the blazer aside.

“Perhaps not that one then,” she says lightly. Karkat tries not to feel bad and fails as she digs through her bags and pulls out another one, this time revealing what looks to be a shirt three sizes too small. She hands it and the pants to him, places her hands on his shoulders, and pushes.

“Go, change,” she commands.

And so it begins.

-

Karkat stomps off to the bathroom to change, leaving Dave alone with Kanaya.

“You want anything to drink?” Dave asks, southern hospitality kicking in. “We’ve got apple juice, Pepsi...milk. Or water.”

“Water would be fine, thank you.” Kanaya says.

Dave grabs a glass of water and brings it back to Kanaya. He eyes the first bag she opened, with the red blazer and gray pants that Karkat turned down flat. Maybe the snazzy, bright-coloured jacket wasn’t Karkat’s taste, but Dave thought it looked pretty cool.

“Are these all tailored to his measurements and stuff?” Dave asks, picking up the red blazer bag.

“Yes, these are outfits I’ve put together specifically with Karkat in mind.” Kanaya says, “Whether he actually agrees to wear them is another matter, however. Do you like them?”

“I think he’d look great in this colour if he gave it a chance,” Dave says, “But I was actually kind of looking at it more for me. It’s more up my alley than his.”

Something flashes across Kanaya’s eyes at that. “These clothes won’t fit you properly,” Kanaya says, “But I would be more than happy to make you something just like the one you like, tailored to your measurements. I’ll have to wait until your cast is off before I can do them properly, however.”

“Can’t you just measure my right arm?” Dave asks.

Kanaya shakes her head. “The human body is naturally asymmetrical. Your left and right arm are likely going to measure differently. One shoulder may naturally sit higher than the other. Especially after your accident, and months of wearing a cast, this could also affect your posture.”

Dave blinks owlishly. “Right. Of course. Asymmetry.”

Karkat walks back out into the room, dressed in his new duds, and Kanaya instantly flits over to Karkat’s side to start checking the fit.

-

The pants hug his ass and thighs too much, and the shirt feels like wearing stretchy tissue paper with how thin it is. It clings to his gut and it’s incredibly unflattering. He grimaces at himself in the mirror, but knows that if he changed back Kanaya would insist on seeing it anyway. He sighs and defeatedly stomps back to the living room.

Karkat crosses his arms and pouts as Kanaya fusses over him. It would be too much to ask that he just try on one outfit and be done with it. Kanaya can, and has, spent an entire day dressing him up in various clothes like a fucking barbie doll.

“Oh, this looks wonderful,” Kanaya says when she steps back. “The fit is just right. What do you think, Dave?”

Karkat and Kanaya both turn to look at Dave, who is clearly surprised by the attention. Kanaya has an earnest look on her face and Karkat’s stormy scowl promises retribution if Dave thinks anything at all.

-

Karkat steps out in pants and a shirt tighter than anything Dave’s seen him wear. It shows off Karkat’s arms, and Dave can’t see it from where he’s standing but he’s certain those pants make Karkat’s ass look _delectable_.

When Kanaya asks his opinion, she and Karkat both look at him with varying degrees of expectation. Kanaya looks eager, Karkat looks ready to pitch himself off the roof of the building. Dave scratches at his neck.

“I think he looks hot as fuck.” Dave says.

He doesn’t have the faintest idea what makes good fashion. Karkat’s told him countless times that Dave’s fashion sense is ‘abysmal’.

Karkat goes bright red. Kanaya looks like she’s fucking glowing with pride, she’s practically reflecting light.

“I don’t have a stylish bone in my body, and I may be bias as fuck because I think my man could pull off a paper bag, but...yeah. It looks really good. You got sexy arms, you oughta show ‘em off.”

-

Karkat’s face feels molten with how much he’s blushing. Kanaya looks at him with a smirk and a look in her eyes that says _I told you so_. Karkat scowls harder.

“Something else, please,” he says through gritted teeth. Dave is biased, and Karkat is incredibly uncomfortable. He can’t meet Dave’s friends wearing this. 

“Karkat, you can’t always wear clothes two sizes too big,” Kanaya sighs, but she’s already searching her bags for something else. Karkat has a suspicion that she starts out with shit she _knows_ he won’t like, just to soften him up so he’ll accept the other stuff easier.

“Watch me,” he says acidicly. He’s being an asshole. Kanaya doesn’t have to be here, she’s here as a _favor_ , and she made him all these clothes, which probably took hours and hours. He takes a breath and, as she passes over another outfit, forces out, “thank you.”

Kanaya beams at him and he trudges back to the bedroom. This outfit isn’t quite as bad as the previous one. The pants are a lighter grey and a bit looser, so he doesn’t feel like the seams are about to burst every time he takes a step. The top is a dark red sweater with some sort of raised pattern on it. It’s still much, much tighter than anything he’d ever choose for himself, but so are all of Kanaya’s clothes.

It still clings to his stomach and arms, but it’s… better. He feels less like he’s been shoved into a vacuum sealed bag.

Kanaya zooms over to him once more the moment he sets foot in the living room, adjusting the sweater, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on the pants. She walks around him and hums thoughtfully. Karkat huffs.

“Dave?” she asks again. “Thoughts?”

Is she going to ask him every time Karkat comes out? Maybe Karkat should have just suffered through trying to fight with his hair himself.

-

Karkat steps out again, this time in lighter gray pants and a form-fitting but still cozy-looking dark red sweater. He looks like he’s able to move around in this one a bit better, though he still looks like he’d rather be rolling around in broken glass.

Even with that grouchy look on his face, Karkat still looks cute as hell. In fact, the grumpy pout just makes him even more cute, in Dave’s opinion.

“That looks more comfortable,” Dave says, “I like the colour of the sweater. But...I don’t know if it’s it, y’know? But we’re getting somewhere.”

Dave stands by his statement, but he also just really wants to see Karkat try on more of Kanaya’s outfits. So far they’ve all been winners. She’s clearly trying to get Karkat to embrace adding colours into his wardrobe, as well as clothes in his size.

It’s not like Karkat is a size XXXL, so Dave isn’t sure why everything he wears is so loose on him. Karkat seemed so self-conscious about his body and Dave couldn’t see why. Karkat was a bangin’ hottie. Kanaya was a good fuckin’ friend for helping him try to realize that.

-

“Hmm, yes, I believe you’re right,” Kanaya says. Her voice is neutral but there’s amusement in her expression and Karkat is going to kill them both. He should have known Dave would fucking egg her on.

“I’m not a fucking doll for you two to play dress up with,” he snaps. He grudgingly accepts the clothes Kanaya deposits in his arms. He _likes_ his baggy, comfortable clothes. He likes not having to look down and see himself, likes not having all of himself on display for people to judge. Kanaya’s been actively forcing him out of his comfort zone for years and Karkat loves her but _fuck_ it’s exhausting sometimes. Especially when she turns the guilt up.

“Of course not, darling,” Kanaya says. “But how will we know what clothes you prefer if you don’t try them on?”

God damn Kanaya and her fucking logic.

He goes back to the bedroom and comes out, awaiting judgement. And he does it again, and again, and again. He tries on various pants that all seem the same to him, except sometimes the color is different and some of them are tighter than others. Kanaya insists they’re entirely different styles.

Another sweater, a fucking _sweater vest_ , a T-shirt, a blazer, a button up. All obnoxiously tight. How long has Kanaya been saving these up? 

Dave gives his opinion on every one, and Karkat feels his nerves fraying. He’s not annoyed at Dave; he’s not even annoyed at Kanaya. She’s being a good friend, Dave is being a supportive boyfriend, and it’s more than Karkat deserves but he just. Fucking hates this.

“Well?” he asks testily, coming back into the living room once more in the last tight-fitting outfit Kanaya has with her. “Since my bodily autonomy is apparently moot, what have you two clowns decided on? Which skin-hugging garments will I be making a fool out of myself in today?”

Kanaya pats him condescendingly on the head and he gnashes his teeth.

“I quite liked the charcoal grey slacks and the navy button up,” Kanaya says. “Dave? What was your favorite? Feel free to mix and match.”

-

Dave hums thoughtfully, looking over the clothes. By this point they’ve all been pulled out of their bags and laid out neatly on the couch. Dave stands in front of the couch, his lips pursed in thought.

“I like the black t-shirt, and these pants,” Dave says, pointing to the ones he means.

Kanaya steps over, and nods approvingly. “These maroon ones?” she picks up the pants and holds them up.

They had a wide leg and an elastic waistband. About as close to pyjama pants as pants get. They were also the one pair that Karkat put on and walked out in and was able to move like he normally did.

The shirt, however, was for Dave’s own guilty pleasure. He loved Karkat in black, and thankfully Karkat wore a lot of it. He was putting him in a colour with the maroon pants, but at least they were pants he looked fairly comfortable moving around in.

The shirt, other than being in Karkat’s comfort zone in terms of colour, is the opposite of his comfort zone in every other department. The neckline is almost low enough to see Karkat’s collarbone (which Dave also likes), and the sleeves are form-fitting and hugged around Karkat’s biceps (which Dave _also_ likes).

Other than being a little snug in the arms, the shirt had actually been fairly loose around the hem, meaning Karkat’s stomach wasn’t on display and Karkat didn’t have to feel like he was wearing a fucking wetsuit.

Kanaya brings over the shirt and the pants to Karkat. “Let’s try this combination.” she says.

-

Karkat takes the clothes and grumbles his way to the bedroom. If he had any say in the matter he’d choose the black slacks and dark red sweater or, better yet, the black slacks and black sweater he had at home. But fine, whatever. Red pants and tight black T-shirt it is.

He doesn’t bother looking at himself in the mirror. The shirt is too low, the sleeves too tight and too short. The pants are loose, at least, maybe the loosest Kanaya brought, but still cling to him too much to be comfortable. He thinks back to this morning, waking up and cuddling Dave and being relaxed and unworried about anything. He sighs and tries to focus on remembering the feeling.

“Are we good?” Karkat asks as he walks back into the room. Kanaya eyes him critically, then nods.

“I like it,” she says. “Good eye, Dave. Now for your hair.”

Oh, perfect, the worst part.

Kanaya has him sit in a chair in the kitchen and gets out the usual tools. A shit ton of various hair products, combs, a brush, a hair straightener and a hair curler though Karkat wouldn’t know which one is which with a gun to his head. Dave waits in the living room, at Kanaya’s request. She probably doesn’t want his boyfriend to see her torturing him.

Kanaya frowns, glaring at his hair with a hateful passion, the first expression of distaste she’s worn since entering the apartment. She begins without preamble, tugging and pulling at his hair, yanking her way through it. She used to try to be gentle, but you don’t get anywhere with his hair if you do that. So Karkat grinds his teeth and winces and occasionally grunts in pain, but he doesn’t complain. Even when his scalp is throbbing and there’s a sharp headache building behind his eyes.

Finally, Kanaya stands back. Victorious, he hopes. Karkat stares up at her with watering eyes.

“Are you done?” he asks, reluctantly hopeful. There’s a long, tense moment of silence before Kanaya gives a small smile.

“I’m afraid your hair has defeated me once again,” she sighs. “But I made a valiant effort. Go take a look.”

Karkat stands, shaking his head. “No need. You’re the only one who can do anything to this ridiculous mop. I’d shave it off if I didn’t know I look hideous bald.”

Her smile grows larger and she leans down to kiss his cheek. He allows it, and she wipes off remnants of her lipstick from his cheek.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Of course,” she replies. “Now come, let's go show your soulmate.”

-

Kanaya tells Dave to wait out in the living room, which Dave doesn’t think is very fair, but he doesn’t argue against it.

“Don’t torture him too badly in there,” Dave calls over his shoulder as Kanaya leads Karkat into the kitchen with all of her hair tools.

Dave quickly grows impatient. He winds up walking to his room to grab his phone and then coming back out to the couch. He messages Jade and Rose a bit about their plans for the evening. Jade is obviously super stoked to be meeting Karkat. Dave tells Rose to be on her best behaviour. She feigns offence, asking Dave when she’s ever _not_ on her best behaviour?

Before Dave can’t type back a witty retort, Karkat and Kanaya are coming out of the kitchen and Dave perks up in his seat and sets his phone down.

Kanaya managed to take Karkat’s unruly curls and style them so that the curls were enunciated without being frizzy and unkempt. Karkat’s hair actually looked like it had some movement to it now, and Dave’s never wanted to run his fingers through it more. But he’s worried that might also fuck up all of Kanaya’s hard work.

“Holy shit,” Dave says, voice awed as he walks over to the two of them, looking Karkat up and down.

Dave is suddenly struck with the realization that Karkat went through all of this for Dave’s sake. He tried on all those clothes and let Kanaya try and style his hair, all because Karkat was going to meet Dave’s friends. Because it was important to Karkat, because it was important to Dave.

Dave smiles, soft and genuine. No longer playing with him like he and Kanaya were before, when they were having their fun ganging up on him and pushing him into all those outfits. He doesn’t want Karkat to think he’s just teasing him right now, and actually be able to believe the words Dave tells him.

“You clean up good, babe.”

-

Karkat shifts his weight, feeling awkward under Dave’s gaze. His arms are crossed defensively over his chest and his face is pulled into a frown, eyes firmly on the floor. He swears to god, if Dave says something like _it looks good, but what if you…_ Karkat will swan dive out the window into a taxi and not look back.

_You clean up good._

The words have him glancing up. He wants to remain pissy--and he’s still fucking annoyed about being used to play dress up, he is--but it’s hard to hold onto that in the face of Dave’s small, sincere smile. Karkat’s cheeks warm and he looks away again.

“...Thanks,” he says. 

His self-esteem is slowly improving, he’s aware. It’s incredibly strange, but there it is. He still backslides, though, like now, when he finds himself thinking that he _knows_ he doesn’t _clean up good_ ; he’s ugly as shit and no amount of clothes or hair product will change that.

But Dave inexplicably finds him attractive and Kanaya’s an incredibly talented stylist that he’s lucky is willing to help him. At the very least, it’s impossible for him to look _worse_. 

“Wonderful,” Kanaya says happily, walking over to the couch to grab a relatively small bag, at least when compared to the ones containing the clothes. Karkat eyes it with discomfort, hoping that Kanaya isn’t about to say--

“And lastly, some light makeup.”

God dammit.

It was too much to hope for. He bitches the entire time but Kanaya handles it with grace, as usual. She sits him on the couch and Dave watches with horrified amusement as Kanaya puts eyeliner and mascara on him. Karkat draws the line when she pulls out the foundation and concealer, likely to cover up his hideous eyebags. She, unfortunately for Karkat, has a wide array of skin tones available, and insists on trying to paint his face every time she gets an opportunity.

“No,” he hisses, putting his foot down. Kanaya sighs, put-upon, but relents.

“Very well,” she says, tucking her makeup away. She grips his chin lightly and turns his head side to side. She smiles. “I believe my work here is done.”

-

Whoa, shit, did Kanaya just say _makeup_?

Dave sits on the arm of the couch and watches with a mixture of sympathy but glee as Kanaya brings out his eyes and long, dark lashes even more with the cosmetics.

When she’s finished, Karkat’s eyes pop out even more than they did before. And he looks...really fucking pretty.

Kanaya excuses herself to use the bathroom after she’s admired her work and considered the job complete. When she’s left the room, Dave slides down from the armrest and leans close to Karkat.

“I was already considering it before, but this just convinced me,” Dave murmurs into his ear, “you’d look _really good_ in panties, too.”

-

Karkat’s scowl deepens even as his stomach flips at Dave’s low voice in his ear.

“Fuck off,” he grumbles, crossing his arms again. He’s not in the mood to be teased right now. His head is still pounding and his eyes feel weird and now that he’s not being distracted his anxieties about meeting Dave’s friends are building back up, making his chest feel tight. 

He doesn’t lean away, though. If Dave really wants to tease Karkat about how he’d look in women’s underwear, Karkat will deal with it. It’s not Dave’s fault he’s in a shitty mood; Karkat shouldn’t take it out on him.

-

Whoops, that struck a nerve. He was expecting Karkat to tell him to fuck off, sure. But that was after turning bright red and hissing under his breath that _Kanaya is here, you horny idiot, can’t you behave for two fucking seconds_ —in that whole grouchy way Karkat would chew him out without actually being mad. Moreso just trying to cover up the fact he was flustered.

But nope, this time Karkat actually seemed irritated. Maybe it wasn’t completely directed at Dave, maybe it was just a combination of the entire situation in general. Karkat hated being out of his comfort zone, and yet he had a large group of friends that were constantly testing the limits of his patience and sanity. Friends he introduced to Dave even though he was a nervous wreck about it the entire time. And even though Karkat was caught off guard and completely unprepared by Dave’s friends coming over tonight, even though he was already stressed out, he had Kanaya come over and shove him into a bunch of outfits and do his hair and even his makeup.

And he did it all for Dave.

So maybe, just maybe, Dave could stop being a little shit for two seconds and try to counteract all these stressors Karkat is subjecting himself to for Dave’s sake. Try to be the one thing that actually calms Karkat down.

Instead of saying anything else that could potentially gripe on Karkat’s nerves, Dave just presses a kiss to Karkat’s cheek, then he gets up and heads into the kitchen.

He fills the electric kettle with water and flips the switch. Pulls out mugs and teabags. He didn’t really drink much tea, but John liked it when he was sick. So they had a nearly full box in the cupboard.

Dave reads the box. Vanilla-chai. Huh. Well, tea was tea, right? Tea was soothing no matter what flavour it was. He sets out two mugs, drops some tea bags in. He doesn’t want any tea, but maybe Kanaya might like a cup. Rose would be here soon, and she liked tea. She could always drink it.

Dave leaves one mug on the counter with the teabag inside, but doesn’t pour any water in it. He’ll just let Kanaya know about it and then she can fix up her tea however she liked it—she seemed like a girl who would be pretty particular about it.

Dave pours the water into one mug, and lets it steep while he grabs the bottle of Tylenol and knocks out one pill. Karkat always got bad headaches when he got stressed out.

Once the tea has steeped he adds a splash of milk, and then takes the Tylenol and the mug of chai tea back out to the living room.

“Hey, big guy,” Dave says, pressing the mug into Karkat’s hands. “Drink up.”

Karkat opens his mouth to say something and Dave takes the opportunity to pop the pill of Tylenol into his mouth.

-

Dave kisses him on the cheek and then… leaves, without a word, walking into the kitchen. Karkat sinks into the couch, miserable. He can’t blame Dave for not wanting to be around him right now. He shouldn’t have fucking snapped, should have let Dave be his ridiculous horny self without being a bitch about it. Dave doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. He’s the best part of Karkat’s life, and Karkat just fucking chased him off like an annoying, yappy dog. He always drives people away.

This was a bad fucking idea. He should have said no to meeting Dave’s friends, put it off for another couple of weeks while he psyched himself up for it. Not that it would matter, since he’ll come off as an asshole either way. He should have just gone home and let Dave have a nice evening with his friends without having to deal with Karkat’s unwarranted bullshit.

It’s not too late. He can tell Dave that he’s sorry for snapping, apologize to Kanaya for wasting her time, and go home where he can’t infect anyone with his shitty mood. He can curl up in bed and watch movies about functional people with requited soulmate bonds and not move until he has to get ready for work tomorrow.

It’s what he’s planning to do when Dave walks back into the room and presses a mug into his hands. He opens his mouth to apologize, but Dave drops a pill in his mouth, catching Karkat entirely off guard. He frowns, but takes a sip from the mug to swallow it down, not asking questions because he trusts his boyfriend.

“You… made me tea?” Karkat asks, confused, staring into the drink like it holds the answers he seeks.

Is Dave not mad at him, then? Karkat wouldn’t blame him if he was. Then again, he wouldn’t put it past Dave to make him tea even when he’s pissed.

-

“Yeah, bro, I made you tea,” Dave says, plopping down beside Karkat. Their arms are pressed flush against each other, but otherwise Dave doesn’t encroach any further on Karkat’s space. He doesn’t want to suffocate him.

“And don’t worry, that wasn’t a horse tranquilizer I just slipped you. Just some Tylenol. You looked like you had a gnarly headache brewing.” Dave explains, “Get that tea into you, might help settle your nerves. All you ever do is drink coffee, maybe you oughta have something less stimulating.”

Dave pauses, looking off at nothing for a moment.

“...And thanks. For doing this for me,” Dave mumbles, “You’re putting up with a lot of shit for my sake and I just want you to know it ain’t going unnoticed or unappreciated.”

Dave bumps Karkat’s shoulder a little, more just leaning a little more against him than any kind of shove.

“They’re gonna love you, baby,” Dave says, “So drink your fuckin’ tea and try to relax.”

-

Dave isn’t mad at him. He made Karkat tea and got him Tylenol and is fucking _thanking_ him, even though he’s being a giant moody dickbag about putting on some stupid clothes.

Karkat takes another sip of the tea and sets it down on the table, then turns to his side and wraps his arms around Dave and pulls him into a tight hug. He buries his head in Dave’s shoulder and takes a moment to breathe.

“Sorry I’m such an asshole,” he mumbles. 

It might still be better if he left. Dave met his friends without a single misstep, but Karkat isn’t Dave. Karkat is loud and brash and rude as fuck, and he’s going to fuck it up. He shouldn’t be allowed to interact with people for longer than a few minutes. Maybe he can wait until Dave’s friends get here, introduce himself, and leave.

-

Dave wraps his good arm around Karkat’s back and rubs it up and down soothingly, turning his head to kiss Karkat firmly on the temple.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dave says, “I like that you’re an asshole. Keeps me on my toes. Besides, me and all my friends are big assholes, too. Well, maybe except for Jade. There’s gotta be one exception, right? Either way, you’ll get along with them just fine.”

He kisses Karkat on the cheek and pulls away.

“Now quit your bellyachin’ and drink your relaxing tea before it gets cold.”

-

Karkat doesn’t want to drink his tea. He wants to hug his boyfriend and get as many cuddles out of him as he can before his friends show up and Karkat takes his leave. He doesn’t think Dave will appreciate this plan, however, so he reluctantly lets Dave go to grab the mug of tea, taking another long sip.

He isn’t much of a tea drinker. This could be the best or worst tea in the world, for all he knows, but mostly it just tastes like flavored water. Still, Dave made it for him, so Karkat keeps drinking without comment, leaning into Dave’s side.

“Have you finished your tantrum?” Kanaya asks, walking into the room. “Did I give you enough time?”

Karkat sighs. 

“Yes,” he says grouchily. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” she replies, checking her phone. “It’s a little after five. Your company should be here soon. I’ll take this opportunity to leave before they get here.”

She smiles at Dave as she begins gathering her things. “Thank you for having me. If you hurt Karkat I will end your life. Have a lovely night.”

“ _Kanaya_ ,” Karkat groans. Can he not have one person in his life who hesitates at the thought of homicide?

-

Dave gets up from the couch and helps Kanaya get the rest of her things together. “You want me to help you carry this out?” Dave asks.

He knows Kanaya managed to get it all up here perfectly fine, but Dave isn’t about to let her leave the same way.

“Oh, that’s perfectly alright, I can manage. Your friends will be here shortly, so I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

Dave reluctantly adds the bags he picked up to Kanaya’s arms, but goes over and opens the door for her

—and comes face to face with all three of his best friends.

“Oh, shit,” Dave says, “hey y’all.”

“Dave!” Jade cries, leaping forward to throw her arms around Dave’s neck in a crushing hug. “It’s been so long!!”

“Geez, Jade, don’t make him break another bone,” John chides as everyone steps into the apartment.

Jade bounds into the apartment after John, leaving Rose in the entryway. She smirks at Dave, her perfectly applied black lipstick not even creasing in the slightest as the corner of her mouth barely quirks upwards.

“Dave,” Rose says, “you’re looking well.”

Dave shrugs his cast arm. “All things considered,” he says.

“It must be quite easy to look well, now that you’ve finally decided not to hinder your ocular senses with those cheap shades John got you as a gag gift,” Rose adds on, looking smug.

Ah, fuck. Dave still wasn’t wearing his shades.

Dave refuses to comment on it, but he also feels like that is only going to make Rose even more victorious. He can never win with her. He steps aside to let her through, and she steps into the apartment proper.

Kanaya is still standing there, and for the first time her composed demeanour has shifted, and she looks rather out of place and awkward, standing there by the door with all of her bags.

“Yo, Kanaya, if you don’t got anywhere to be, why don’t you just stay here and chill with us? We were just gonna watch movies and order some pizza.”

“Oh—I—well—“ Kanaya stammers.

Dave blinks. It’s strange seeing her flustered.

After a moment Kanaya seems to collect herself, and sighs softly. “That sounds lovely. Thank you.”

Dave heads back over to the couch to grab his shades, because fuck Rose Lalonde so goddamn much, and slips them back in place. Kanaya comes back into the living room and dumps her bags and hangers off in the corner with a surprising amount of carelessness.

John comes into the living room followed closely by Jade, holding a large bowl of popcorn. Jade brings in several glasses and a bottle of soda. She sets them down on the table with the popcorn and then looks up at Karkat, who’s still seated on the couch. Rose comes into the room, looks over at Dave to give him a knowing smirk when he sees his shades back in place, and then over to Karkat.

“Girls, this is Karkat,” Dave says, getting the introductions out of the way.

Jade grins, flying around the table and grabbing one of Karkat’s hands, shaking it vigorously.

“Hi, Karkat! Dave’s gushed so much about you that I feel like we’ve met already, but it’s still really nice to meet you!” Jade says excitedly.

Rose simply offers Karkat a small smile, and then steps over to Kanaya, who’s tucked away in the corner.

“I like your lipstick,” Rose says.

-

Kanaya starts to leave, but somehow there are suddenly three more people in the apartment instead of one less and Karkat is _not prepared_. And Kanaya is staying, apparently, which means that Karkat’s plan of cutting and running is going to be more complicated. Or maybe not, since Kanaya seems unable to take her eyes off the goth woman who’s talking to Dave.

The black haired girl, Jade, zips over to him and pumps his hand with earnest overeagerness, and Karkat’s eyes widen slightly.

“Nice to meet you too,” he says, instead of _fucking ow_ , like he wants to. This girl has a strong grip. “What… uh… what did he say?”

In the corner, Kanaya flushes delicately. 

“Oh,” she says, nervously smoothing out her skirt. “I quite enjoy your ensemble.”

“Dude, what happened to you?” John asks, plopping onto the couch next to Karkat, who is feeling very overwhelmed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear something that isn’t black before. And what’s up with your hair?”

Karkat scowls, jostling the boy with his elbow so that the popcorn misses his mouth.

“Hey!” John protests. Karkat rolls his eyes and Jade giggles. 

Karkat doesn’t need John’s obliviousness making him feel more self-conscious than he already does, thanks. 

-

Dave plops down on Karkat’s other side, and Jade sits on the armrest, putting her feet into Dave’s lap. He spreads his legs and she tucks her feet underneath his right thigh.

“Way to out me right outta the gate, Harley,” Dave says, slinging his arm over Karkat’s shoulders.

Jade sticks out her tongue at him, and then looks at Karkat. “He told us aaaall about how handsome and nice his boyfriend was!” Jade says, giggling mischievously.

She rests her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, and grins at Karkat.

“And he certainly wasn’t lying,” she says, “You’re super cute!”

“Jade, stop flirting with Dave’s soulmate,” Rose says, walking over with Kanaya. The two of them sit down on the floor, facing the couch.

“I’m nooot! I’m just being honest!” Jade cries.

“Listen, Harls, I know my man is irresistible, and normally I ain’t about to slut shame you. You live your best life. But eyes off the merchandise. Go get your own soulmate.”

Jade pouts, looking off at nothing. “If I do have a soulmate, they’re gonna have to be cool with me being poly. Soulmates seem nice and all but soulmate or not I don’t think I could give all my love to just one person.”

“Ugggh, can we all stop talking about how good Karkat smells and just start the movie?” John complains, leaning forward to grab the remote off the table.

Everyone is dead silent for a moment, and turn to stare at John. John looks between everyone, bewildered. “What?!” he finally cries, when nobody says anything.

“John, nobody mentioned how Karkat smelled,” Rose says.

“Until you, just now,” says Jade.

“Yo, what the fuck, even Not A Homosexual Egbert is scoping out my boyfriend?” Dave says, incredulous. “Rose, don’t tell me he’s about to make you stop being a lesbian now.”

“Well, he does have very lovely eyes,” Rose says, winking at Dave.

Dave scoots a little closer to Karkat. “Kanaya, what the fuck, you made him too sexy.”

“My apologies, Dave, I simply don’t know my own strength,” Kanaya says.

“Aaaugh!” John yells, jumping up from the couch and storming over to the DVD player, “Okay, enough, I’m putting the movie in!”

-

Karkat sits still as this happens around him, baffled. His cheeks heat up and his face falls into a confused scowl. He doesn’t _think_ they’re mocking him. It doesn’t sound like they’re mocking him. It feels that way, though.

“Don’t sniff me, Egbert,” Karkat says under his breath as John sits back down. John gives him a scandalized look and Dave snorts.

He’s still puzzling out their reactions as the movie starts, and it’s not until ten minutes later that he realizes he missed his chance to excuse himself for the night. He leans heavier into Dave’s side. At least things seem to be going okay, though apparently Dave’s brainrot is contagious if his friends think Karkat is attractive, too.

Still, the night is young, and there’s plenty of time for Karkat to stick his foot in his mouth.

Apparently Dave’s friend’s have the same chronic inability to focus on movies as they do, because Karkat has barely caught a word of it over the chatter. Kanaya and Rose are deep in discussion about the morality of high fashion brands, lost in their own little world. Karkat nudges Dave and nods his head at them with raised eyebrows. Dave smirks.

John is quietly munching on popcorn and occasionally pitching in while Jade pesters Karkat with questions. _Where are you from? How did you meet Dave? Do you like plants?_ Karkat tries to keep his answers as bland and polite as possible but god, the questions never end and Karkat only has so much patience. 

“Does anyone know what the fuck is happening in this movie?” he asks, trying to redirect the conversation. The only answer he gets is John’s helpful “it’s a ghost ship!” before Jade is at it once more.

Finally, Karkat stands, excusing himself to the bathroom before he snaps at her. God, meeting new people is so fucking exhausting. He has to watch everything he says lest he come off as too much of a jackass. And there’s added pressure of _needing_ to be on his best behavior. 

He can’t even splash water on his face to calm down or he’ll ruin Kanaya’s makeup. He grimaces at himself in the mirror. Kanaya did the best she could, he supposes, but there’s only so much improvement to be made when you’re starting with something so underwhelming. 

He could spend a decade in this bathroom and not feel prepared enough to head back out, so he sucks it up and goes back to the living room. 

-

Karkat excuses himself to the washroom, and if Kanaya weren’t here Dave is certain his friends would all instantly start to hound him. But Rose is too wrapped up in Kanaya to care, and all Jade does and push him a little with her elbow and give him a cheeky smile and some wiggly eyebrows.

Dave rolls his eyes behind his shades. “Y’all getting hungry? Should we order the pizza after this movie is done?”

John nods. “Yeah, that’s cool. Ooh, we could put on Shawshank after this one, watch that one with our pizza.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, boss.”

Dave gets up from the couch, leaving John and Jade to jabber away about the movie. He heads down the hallway and into his room, grabbing his sling. His shoulder is starting to get pretty tired again, so it’s high time he takes the strain off. He should ask Karkat for a massage later tonight.

Speaking of Karkat, he steps out of the bathroom as Dave comes out of his room. Dave sees Karkat give a large sigh before he notices Dave standing there, and his shoulders tense up.

Looks like Karkat was still nervous as hell. It’s not like any of his friends were intimidating. And the one who could be considered the most intimidating of all of them was being thoroughly distracted by Kanaya. There was no need for Karkat to still be so on edge.

Dave leans against the door jamb, lifting up his sling and wiggling it at Karkat.

“Hi, big guy,” Dave says, “Think you could gimme a hand with this?”

-

Karkat isn’t expecting to run into Dave in the hallway, but his hands are already reaching for the sling before he even has time to process. He slips it around Dave’s arm and affixes it to his neck with practiced ease, then kisses Dave on the cheek and wraps his arms around Dave’s waist. Eventually Dave will tire of Karkat hanging all over him, but until then Karkat is going to take full advantage.

“Is your shoulder hurting you again?” Karkat asks, hand coming up to lightly squeeze and massage at it as best he can like this. 

Karkat sighs and bites his lip. 

“I think I might head out after this movie is done,” he says hesitantly. It’s not going as terribly as he’d feared, and he’s even kind of enjoying himself, but it’s probably best to limit his chances of offending someone to the point of violence. He’s the kind of person you need to build up a tolerance to. Too much of him all at once isn’t good for anyone. 

Besides, there’s no way he’ll keep his temper under control once the booze comes out and he’s on babysitting duty. He can barely deal with his own friends when they get like that.

He’s disappointed, though. He was looking forward to spending another night with Dave, curled around him and watching him sleep with soft eyes.

-

Karkat is already walking over while Dave is asking about the sling, and quickly puts it on for Dave. Dave is worried that Karkat will just snap on the sling and then they’ll head back out, but thankfully Karkat kisses him and wraps his arms around Dave’s waist, and Dave relaxes quickly into his arms.

Dave hums a little at the little shoulder rub and goes to answer Karkat about his sore shoulder when Karkat mentions leaving. His eyebrows raise and he blinks a few times behind his shades in confusion.

Was Karkat really having that bad of a time? Jade was hounding him with a lot of questions, and John came right out of the gate talking about his hair and clothes. Dave wouldn’t be surprised if Karkat was uncomfortable and overwhelmed and wanted to be alone. Even if it was a little disappointing.

He couldn’t expect Karkat to just instantly get along with his friends. Even if Dave loved all his friends, that wasn’t an automatic guarantee that his boyfriend would too. Hell, John and Karkat still didn’t particularly get along. They probably wouldn’t even be amicable with each other if not for Dave’s sake.

These things would take some time, Dave supposed. He couldn’t expect Karkat to be best buddies with all of his friends over night. It’s not like Dave was BFFs with Tavros and Aradia after just one Monopoly Night.

...But at least Dave didn’t dip in the middle of the hangout.

Not that he could have even if he wanted to. Karkat was his ride. But even if he did have his own way home, he wouldn’t have left. Because he...had fun.

But Karkat wasn’t having fun. And there was no magic spell Dave could learn on the fly to change that.

“Yeah?” Dave asks, keeping his tone casual, “that’s cool, man.”

-

Dave doesn’t get upset with him, because of course he doesn’t. Karkat doesn’t think Dave’s _ever_ gotten upset with him, and one day his stupid anxiety is going to realize that. That day is not today, however, and Karkat relaxes, resting his head on Dave’s good shoulder and sighing.

Even if he’s not upset with him, Dave is probably still upset. His voice is carefully neutral in the way it gets when he’s trying not to let Karkat know he has feelings. 

“Sorry,” he says, feeling like he needs to explain. Dave’s friends aren’t the problem here, and he doesn’t want his boyfriend thinking that. “Things are just going pretty well right now and I should probably leave before I fuck it up somehow.”

Karkat is brash and loud and grumpy; he’s not everyone’s cup of tea. The only reason he has the friends that he does is because they’re jackasses just like he is, with varying levels of social ineptitude to hide it behind. Dave’s friends don’t seem like jackasses. They seem friendly and eager and fucking exhausting, exactly the type of people Karkat would bring down with his shitty attitude.

-

 _Did you consider that you leaving might be the thing that fucks things up?_ Dave thinks, but doesn’t say.

He isn’t about to fucking guilt trip Karkat into sticking around. If Karkat wants to leave—fine, let him leave. He’s a grown-ass man with his own fucking autonomy, and if he wants to be alone right now then that’s perfectly fine. Dave can dig it. His batteries are depleted and the only way he can recharge is if he’s by himself. Dave gets like that, too.

Dave feels like anything he says right now could be misconstrued as Dave trying to get Karkat to stay. He stays quiet for a minute, thinking about what to say.

“Yeah, it’s chill. Baby steps,” Dave says with a little shrug. “I’ll text you later tonight.”

Dave wonders idly that him being so unphased by this might be misconstrued, too. That maybe Karkat was expecting more of a reaction and since he didn’t get one he’d just say fuck it, and decide to stay after all.

Dave doesn’t want that.

Well, he does want Karkat to stay. Of course he does. But he wants Karkat to stay because Karkat wants to stay, not because Dave asked him to stay like some needy, whiny little girl.

No way. Fuck that noise. He was not going to be the clingy, annoying girlfriend. If Karkat wanted to leave, Dave would see him off with a smile and even if he missed him the rest of the night he was not gonna make Karkat feel lousy about leaving and needing to be alone.

Because then Karkat would think he could never do that. That he could never just...step away and take a breather by himself, without it upsetting Dave. There’s no way Dave could let that happen.

...Man, this dating shit could be mads convoluted sometimes.

-

Karkat frowns. Dave still has that bland tone that Karkat hates and his body language is too intentionally casual to be actually casual. Karkat realizes with a sinking sensation that he’s fucking this up regardless. God, he can’t even meet his boyfriend’s friends right. Karkat takes a careful step back, letting his hands fall from Dave’s waist, giving him space. Maybe Dave is upset with him and just doesn’t want to show it with his friends in the other room. Maybe there’s a long, angry message in Karkat’s future. Karkat wouldn’t blame him; he probably deserves it.

“I like your friends,” he says, staring at a point over Dave’s shoulder. “I mean I don’t really know them but they seem… nice. A shit ton nicer than my own.”

How is he supposed to explain that the first time he met Terezi he accidentally elbowed her in the face and broke her glasses and she despised him for a month? Or that Tavros shot him wounded looks for weeks after they first met because Karkat accidentally insulted something he enjoyed in one of his angry tirades? He fucking met Dave because he _hit him with his car_ , for fuck’s sake. Karkat is an angry bull in the china shop of social interactions.

Dave’s face is still carefully blank and Karkat doesn’t know how to fix it. Maybe he should stay, let his shitty luck run its course. Does Dave want him to stay? Normally Dave is an open book, but Karkat’s fallen too far into his own head to read him, and his brain is telling him that Dave seems pretty fucking done with Karkat’s shit, right now. He runs a hand through his hair, forgetting all of the hard work Kanaya put into it and grimacing at the heavy feel of it on his fingers. 

“I’ll just… get out of your hair, then,” Karkat says, feeling less than worthless. “I’ll talk to you later.”

-

Instead of looking relieved that Dave was letting him go without complaint, Karkat frowns.

Then he steps back, his hands leaving Dave’s waist. Dave holds back a pout. Karkat looks off at nothing; Dave watches his throat bob nervously and waits for him to speak.

Karkat says he likes his friends. That his friends are nice.

Then what was the fucking issue? If he wasn’t having a bad time, if he liked Dave’s friends...why did he think he was going to fuck everything up? Why did he think it would be better if he left?

After he put in all this effort just to meet them in the first place?

Karkat visibly deflates even further, looking absolutely miserable. Karkat turns away, thinking that _that_ was going to be the conclusion to their conversation. Dave isn’t having it for a damn second.

“Nope,” Dave says, bringing his hand out and grabbing Karkat by the shirt. It’s hard to grab into the fabric, since the shirt isn’t as baggy as what Karkat normally wears. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

He tugs Karkat close again, hating the distance Karkat put between them. Dave lets go of the shirt, not wanting to wrinkle up the fabric, and puts his cups his hand on the side of Karkat’s neck. He rubs his thumb gently across the soft skin there, looking at Karkat earnestly.

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on with you?” he asks quietly.

-

Dave grabs him and pulls him back in, to Karkat’s surprise and confusion. Karkat goes easily, and Dave brings his hand up and for a split second Karkat thinks that Dave is going to hit him. He doesn’t bring his arm up to block it or pull away, content to just… let it happen. It isn’t until Dave is gently running his thumb against Karkat’s neck that he comes back to himself.

Did he just think Dave was going to _hit him_? What the fuck?

Dave is the least violent person Karkat has ever met. Even if Dave is pissed as fuck Karkat doubts that he’d throw a punch. What the fuck is wrong with him? He shakes his head, trying to knock the thoughts away. Dave is waiting for an answer.

“Nothing,” he says, but his voice is unsure. He clears his throat. “I told you before, I have really bad luck with meeting people. I don’t want to push it.”

Meeting his exes friends didn’t exactly go well, either. Sometimes the friends even voiced their confusion about why they were with _Karkat_ , of all people, while he was still sitting right the fuck there. That had been a humiliating experience. At least Dave’s friends seem polite enough to keep that shit to themselves until Karkat leaves.


	12. Chapter 12

Dave doesn’t miss the muscle that twitches in Karkat’s cheek when Dave brings up his hand.

Just barely holding back a flinch.

Dave knew that response all too well.

Because he got hit harder if Bro saw him cringe.

“Look, as much as I’d like for you to stay, I’d like it a lot better if you were having a good time,” Dave says. “And if you aren’t gonna have a good time if you stay, then that’s fine. Like I said—baby steps. Take it in small doses. It’s cool.”

He pats Karkat’s cheek, making sure his movements are slow and telegraphed this time around.

“I’m not mad or whatever. I get it. I ain’t gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do. You’ve already put up with a lot today, all things considered,” Dave goes on, “Last thing I’d want is for you to think that you can’t take time for yourself. So if you gotta bounce, it’s cool. But you’re not _getting out of my hair_ , you dumbfuck. I am perfectly happy with you all up in my hair and every other part of my person, all the time, twenty-four-sev.”

Dave pokes Karkat on the tip of the nose, with a little more force than a playful poke. It’s enough to push Karkat’s head back a little.

“So stop being so self-deprecating, go home and lay in bed and put on a rom-com until you feel like a functioning member of society again. Or, if you think you can handle it, get your fine ass back out there and watch another movie with us. I’ll let you get final say on what goes on the pizza, no matter what all those chucklefucks ask for.”

Okay, maybe he’s dangling the carrot now. He’s not trying to be manipulative or needy, he’s really fucking not. But Karkat’s obviously got some kind of blockage where he thinks he’s this big unlikeable turd and it’s just not true. So if Dave can convince him to stay, and show him how wrong he is, then great.

But if Karkat really does just need to get away for a bit, then that was okay, too. Dave would do whatever Karkat wanted to do.

-

Dave isn’t using his blank tone anymore, and he’s not pissed at Karkat, doesn’t want him to get lost and stop getting on his nerves with his useless mood swings. Of course he doesn’t. Karkat doesn’t even know where that thought came from. Dave will support him whether he stays or goes, and he wants Karkat to stay, it seems. 

So Karkat will stay.

He grabs Dave’s hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his knuckles.

“I’ll stick around,” he says. “Through the next movie, at least.” The second the alcohol comes out, however, he’s gone.

He goes up on his tiptoes to kiss Dave’s forehead.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For putting up with my bullshit.”

He pulls Dave into a hug. He maybe feels guilty for before, thinking Dave would hurt him. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve someone like Dave in his life. He bites back an apology for being such a wishy washy little shit, knowing Dave will just shrug it off. 

“The first time I met Feferi I said astrology was fake and she spent half an hour cheerfully tearing me apart with astrology shit I still don’t understand,” Karkat offers, trying to lighten the mood. “Nepeta bit me, and I’m pretty sure Aradia put a curse on me for like three months.”

-

“That’s just your friends on a Tuesday.” Dave retorts, leaning into the hug.

He leans back and pinches Karkat’s cheek, pulling the skin outwards.

“Saying stuff like ‘thanks for putting up with my bullshit’ counts as self-deprecation, dunderhead.” Dave says flippantly.

-

“That’s just how they are, isn’t it?” he asks, exasperatedly fond. “It’s not just them, though.”

He rolls his eyes at Dave’s abuse of his face, then blinks in surprise. Oh shit, does it really? He scowls, frustrated with himself.

“Sorry,” he says. 

“Do you want to head back in or are you really devoted to this whole ‘yanking my face around’ thing?”

-

Dave smirks. “I’m devoted to doing _something_ to your face, alright.”

He drops his hand down to the back of Karkat’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. Dave hums into the kiss, turning his head to the side to deepen it, smiling when Karkat lowers his hands down to Dave’s hips.

John walks around the corner and into the hallway, and stops in his tracks, his expression instantly going deadpan.

“I knew it,” John says. “Come on, you two. We’re gonna order pizza and put on Shawshank.”

Dave doesn’t pull away from the makeout when John catches them, in fact he only smiles even more into the kiss. When John finishes talking Dave pulls away, turning to give his best friend a cheeky smirk.

“Sorry, John, couldn’t help myself from whisking my man off into a dark corner to suck his face,” Dave says with a noncommittal shrug. “You know how it is.”

“I most certainly do not know ‘how it is’, Dave.”

Dave walks over and pats John on the shoulder. “Then we really need to get you laid.”

John makes an indignant squawking sound and Dave laughs. The trio head back out to the couch. John puts on the movie while Dave dials up the pizza place. Everyone throws out topping options before Karkat finally tells everyone to shut the hell up and settle for two pizzas, with half of what everyone wants on each. This is instantly way too much for Dave to remember and he hands the phone to Kanaya in his panic.

She very calmly and concisely explains the order to the poor employee on the other end, then hands the phone back to Dave.

“Next time, let’s figure out what we want on the pizzas before we call,” Kanaya says.

“Duly noted,” says Dave.

John starts the movie and everyone chats off and on between watching the movie. Pizza arrives about twenty minutes into the movie, and Dave grabs the boxes while Karkat gets plates and cups for everyone. John pauses the movie, everyone gets set up with a few slices of pizza, a glass of pop, and then they’re back to the living room.

-

Dave kisses him and any remaining tension drains out of Karkat. It’s astounding how easily he melts against Dave, mind quieting at the touch of their lips. Not even John’s unwanted interruption bothers him. John can watch him and Dave makeout all he wants; Karkat doesn’t give a fuck.

Unfortunately, though, Dave pulls away and they have to head into the living room. When the pizza arrives, Karkat accidentally knocks Jade off the arm of the couch when he goes to sit back down from the kitchen and his eyes widen as he stills. But instead of flipping her shit Jade laughs as she stands up, patting him on the arm, which quickly turns into feeling up his bicep.

“Don’t worry, Karkat!” she says cheerfully, giving him a wink. “You can sweep me off my feet any day!”

“Uh,” Karkat replies, backing up and taking his seat next to his boyfriend. He’s not used to being flirted with, especially not while the person he’s dating is right fucking next to him. But at least she isn’t pissed. “Noted, I guess?”

Jade laughs, taking a bite of her pizza and positioning herself back onto the arm of the couch. He notices Rose looking at him with raised eyebrows and a curious glint in her eye, and Karkat raises his brows right back, unsure what she wants. He doesn’t get to find out, however, because Kanaya once again draws her into a conversation. Karkat is going to tease the shit out of her for her obvious crush later.

-

Dave looks around Karkat and shoots Jade a Look when she sits back down on the armrest, but all she does is stick her tongue out at him again.

Why did Jade have to be such a goddamn shameless flirt. He kind of wants to knock her off the couch again.

Karkat acting all flustered about it is kind of cute, though.

The rest of the movie passes without incident, and everyone actually gets invested enough to stay quiet and watch at some point, full and satisfied from their pizza feast.

Dave leans his head on Karkat’s shoulder at some point, and Karkat wraps his arm around Dave’s shoulder, and gently massages at the tight cord in Dave’s neck.

Once the movie is over, John gets up, groaning as he cracks his back. Jade yawns and stretches her arms above her head. John takes the disc out of the DVD player and pops it back in its case and on the shelf.

“Well, folks, this has been a blast. We ought to do movie nights more often. I wish all of our schedules lined up more,” John says, “I got another early class tomorrow, though, so I’m afraid we should probably call it a night.”

Jade slides off the armrest and starts gathering up all the cups and plates. “That’s cool, I’m getting pretty sleepy anyway.”

She did seem a lot less energetic than she had before. But if Jade didn’t stay active then her narcolepsy really caught up with her, which is why she was always so bubbly and bouncy; constantly trying to counteract it. But lots of carbs and sitting around watching movies had done her in, it seemed.

“I have an early start tomorrow, as well,” Rose says.

“Well, thanks for coming over, everybody!” John says, “And it was nice meeting you, Kanaya.”

“Thank you for having me. I had a very lovely evening,” Kanaya says.

John chuckles, looking a little unsure how to handle Kanaya’s poise. “Heh. Well, feel free to hang out with us again. That goes for all of Karkat’s friends. Dave told me he has like, a hundred of them.”

“That is a rather abundant exaggeration.”

Jade and John clean up, and Rose helps Kanaya gather up all of her bags and hangers. Everyone gathers at the door and says their final goodbyes, and Jade, Rose, and Kanaya all leave together.

John gives the girls a final wave before shutting the door. “Well, just us boys again,” John says, “I’m grabbing a shower and heading to bed.”

“Sounds good, Johnny-boy,” Dave says, as John heads off to the washroom.

Dave looks over at Karkat and smiles. “Well, sticking around?” Dave asks, “Or are you heading home for the night?”

The rest of the night went really well. They all just chilled and watched movies—it was nice. Dave just got to snuggle up to his boyfriend watching a movie like they did all the time, like they’d already been doing all day. Only he got to do it with all of his friends around. And while he loved having Karkat all to himself and enjoying their privacy, it was also pretty damn fun having a boyfriend to show off, too.

He knows Karkat stayed because Dave asked him to, and he still feels bad about that. He’d wanted Karkat to stay of his own accord, but that just wasn’t happening, so Dave had to get a little selfish. So at least now, with the pressure off, he can offer another chance for an out.

-

They watch the movie. Karkat narrowly avoids kicking Rose in the elbow when he stretches, and she’s too wrapped up in Kanaya to notice, or even pay Karkat any attention at all. Which is probably a good thing; he doesn’t need another person flaying him alive for his obvious neuroses. Jade doesn’t hit on him again, and Karkat thinks she might just be naturally flirty, like Kanaya’s older sister or, as a less flattering comparison, Eridan’s older brother.

Jade still pesters him with questions, but they’re interspersed between moments of silence where they’re all absorbed in the movie, and that’s a lot easier for Karkat to handle. He does get a few weird looks from her, when he goes off on a mini-rant because he just can’t fucking help himself, but he reigns that shit in and luckily doesn’t seem to insult her. It helps that her energy appears to dip after eating.

When the movie is over, John calls an end to the night, which catches Karkat off guard. That’s it? Two movies and some pizza? Dave and Karkat dipped out early when they visited Karkat’s friends; they left even before the booze was broken out. The gatherings Karkat are used to last well into the night, while everyone gets belligerently drunk and loud and Karkat practically forces water down their useless throats. And… he’d just… assumed…

He feels like an idiot.

He really blew shit out of proportion, didn’t he? Do Dave’s friends even _drink_? Of course he wouldn’t be expected to babysit these people; he barely knew them. That didn’t stop _his_ friends, of course. He’d first met Gamzee and Eridan high out of their minds, stumbling down a dimly lit street, and ended up being swept off to an after-party, somehow, because he couldn’t leave well enough alone. 

Karkat allows Kanaya to sweep him into a hug and kiss him on the cheek. He gives her a smile and says, as quietly as he can, “careful, don’t want Rose to get the wrong idea.” She blushes like a firetruck and Karkat is smug as shit.

The girls leave, Jade tossing him another flirty comment that makes Karkat scoff, and John excuses himself to the shower, and then it’s him and Dave once more. God, he really put Dave through it today, didn’t he? Tantrum after tantrum, and Dave handled them all like a pro. And Dave is still offering for him to stay. He owes his boyfriend an apology, but he’s pretty sure anything he said would be waved off. So instead he tries to pour his meaning into a kiss, stepping into Dave’s space and rubbing a hand up and down his back.

“I’ll stick around,” he says when they break apart. His hand comes up to knead at Dave’s shoulder. “How’s your shoulder doing? You want a massage, baby?”

A massage is the least he can do. He’s tempted to get on his knees and give Dave an apology blowjob right here.

-

Karkat steps forward and pulls Dave into a kiss, and Dave instantly melts, sighing as Karkat runs his large, warm hand up and down his back.

Dave smiles sappily when Karkat pulls away, and his smile widens when Karkat says he’ll stay. Dave rolls his shoulder a bit, an awkward movement with the cast on.

“It’s been pretty sore lately,” Dave admits, “a massage sounds real fuckin’ good.”

-

Lately, huh? Has Karkat been slacking on working the tension out? He’ll have to fix that.

He kisses Dave’s nose and grabs his hand, leading him to Dave’s bedroom where he shuts the door, so John doesn’t walk by and get a glimpse of Dave’s scars. He kisses Dave softly as he unbuttons his shirt and helps him out of it and the sling, and backs him to the bed with hands on his boyfriend’s hips. 

He grabs his massage oil from the side table and climbs onto the bed, spreading his legs for Dave to sit between. He pats the bed and smiles as Dave gets comfortable, dropping light kisses across his bare shoulders as he pops the cap and poors the oil into his hands.

“I love you,” he says as he spreads the oil across Dave’s back, letting it heat up before he starts kneading the muscles there. He knows it’s useless, but he tries to apologize anyway. “I’m sorry for… today.”

It’s the best he’s got, since Dave doesn’t want him to be self deprecating. What he really wants to say is _sorry I’m a fucking jackass who turned your fun hangout with your friends into an angst session that you had to talk me through because I throw tantrums like a toddler with rage issues._

-

Karkat wastes no time taking Dave to the bedroom, and Dave can’t keep the smile off his face while Karkat takes off his shirt and kisses him slow and sweet.

Dave climbs into bed and lets Karkat work his magic on his back and shoulders, pulling off his shades and setting them aside. He sighs, letting his eyes slip shut as Karkat kneads into the tense muscles on his shoulders.

Dave’s smile goes soft and warm when Karkat says he loves him. Karkat tries to apologize again, and Dave is about to shake his head, but he stops himself, slowly opening his eyes again.

“You looked surprised when John wrapped things up for the night,” Dave says.

He looks over his shoulder a little, giving Karkat an amused look out of the corner of his eye.

“I told ya it would be an early night,” Dave says, “so why the surprise?”

-

Embarrassment makes his cheeks darken. Would it be less humiliating to explain or deflect? But Karkat was such a dick today, he probably owes Dave an actual reason.

“I may have misinterpreted,” He says, ducking his head and trying to focus on the massage. “I… We left early, when I introduced you to my friends. Like, way early. They’d barely gotten started. An early night in my friend group means only one trip to the emergency room and a single bottle of vodka drained dry.”

He sighs. “I should fucking know better. I _know_ my friends are all insane. I don’t know why I fucking assumed I’d be chasing after strangers and making sure they didn’t fucking--I don’t know, try to climb out the window and end up breaking their ankle on the fire escape and then feeling bad when I made them cry for yelling at them about being an idiot.”

He digs his fingers in too hard, accidentally. Dave doesn’t make a sound but Karkat can tell by the way he jerks slightly and tenses. He presses a kiss to the spot and lightens his touch.

“And it’s important to me that your friends tolerate me, at least,” he continues. “Being an asshole killjoy all the time makes that unlikely.”

-

Dave blinks a couple times, surprised. He turns back around again. He can’t look back at Karkat the whole time, it would be pretty counterproductive to the massage.

He jumps a little involuntarily when Karkat digs his fingers deep into his shoulder, but relaxes when Karkat kisses his shoulder apologetically and continues with his usual pressure.

“Rose is straightedge,” Dave explains, “we still get together for drinks sometimes. But it’s pretty rare, and also hella casual. Rose’s mom was an alcoholic...Rose is in recovery. Been clean for a few years, though. She’s okay with us drinking around her, but none of us were big on drinking anyway.”

Dave reaches up and scratches his neck, shuffling a little in his seat. “Jade’s got narcolepsy. So she’s a pretty early crasher. She can party pretty hard—she likes going to raves and shit. But as soon as there’s a moment of quiet, she’s out like a light on whatever flat surface is available.”

Dave gives a little shrug. “And John’s a goody two shoes and a big fucking nerd, who goes to bed early on a school night.” Dave goes on, “As for me...I don’t mind partying. I was pretty wild when I got outta Houston, actually. Guess I had a lot of steam to blow off. I guess I got it outta my system.”

He looks over his shoulder at Karkat again. “I’m down to get wild with your nutjob friends...if you don’t mind taking it easy with mine.”

-

Karkat moves his hands from the tops of Dave’s shoulders to focus on his shoulder blades, making a humming sound to show that he’s listening. He leans in and kisses the back of Dave’s neck.

“That sounds good,” he says. “I don’t really drink; I’ll have a shot or two, but mostly I spend my time running around pushing cups of water into people’s hands and making sure no one injures themselves. If you want to drink that’s fine, I’ll look after you.”

“I had fun. I’m sorry I overreacted. I shouldn’t have gotten myself worked up like that, or at the very least I should have just fucking talked to you. I’ll do better.”

-

Dave gives a little laugh as he imagines Karkat aggressively taking care of his drunk friends. Of course he would.

Dave twists around so he can kiss Karkat on the cheek.

“Apology accepted, babycakes,” Dave says lightly. “At least now you know my dorky ass friends are nothing to get so worked up about, eh? But, yeah, next time...talk to me. You know I’ll always listen.”

-

Karkat relaxes when Dave accepts his apology. Sometimes it feels like Dave thinks Karkat can do no wrong, which is the furthest fucking thing from the truth. 

“I know,” he says. “I will, next time.”

And there will inevitably be a next time. Karkat is a train wreck of a person, but at least he has Dave to talk him through shit. He remembers the tea from earlier and his heart melts all over again. 

He massages Dave’s back, as much as he can without Dave being able to lay on his stomach, not just his neck and shoulders. When Dave is a relaxed, helpless puddle of a man and Karkat’s fingers have long since started to ache, Karkat stops to pull off his shirt and toss it aside (Kanaya can never know) and have Dave lean back against him.

He presses kisses on Dave’s temple, the edge of his cheekbone, the tip of his ear, and lets his hands run along Dave’s sides and down to his waistband. He fingers the edge of it teasingly, dipping his fingers under to stroke the skin of Dave’s stomach.

“You were too fucking patient with me today,” he says lowly into Dave’s ear. “Let me make it up to you?”

-

Karkat rubs his back and shoulders until Dave’s is a soft puddle of goo. Then Dave looks over his shoulder again and watches unabashedly as Karkat pulls off his shirt. Oooh, shirtless Karkat...

Karkat has Dave lean back against him, and Dave hums with contentment at how warm he is, a lazy smile on his face as Karkat peppers him with little kisses. His mouth parts on a little sigh and he shivers as Karkat runs his hands down Dave’s stomach and just beneath his waistband.

“Oh?” Dave says, trying to keep his voice light and innocent, “what did you have in mind, baby?”

-

Karkat hums thoughtfully. He just wants to make Dave feel good, wants to make up for the strife and tension he caused today. A massage is a good start, but it isn’t enough. His fingers slide slowly down, beneath Dave’s shorts, and Karkat avoids his cock in favor of drawing circles along the crease of Dave’s thigh.

“I could jerk you off while you tell me all about how you want to see me in panties,” Karkat thinks aloud. “I know I shut you down earlier. I’m sorry, babe. Or I could blow you, or eat you out. Or all three in succession. All you gotta do is lay back and let me take care of you, baby. What do you think?”

-

Dave breathes in deep through his nose as Karkat’s hands travel lower, and it takes all of his willpower not to fucking whine when Karkat just straight up ignores his dick.

Dave exhales slow and shaky, leaning his head back and tucking his face into Karkat’s neck.

“ _Fuck_ , baby...” Dave says, voice low and soft. Trying to keep quiet. “Yes. Hell yes. To all three. Hell fucking yes.”

He presses a kiss to Karkat’s neck as a shiver runs up his back from Karkat’s warm, teasing touch, so goddamn tantalizingly close to his dick.

“Please, baby...”

-

Karkat shushes him as he pulls his hand out, saying “lift up” and pushing Dave’s shorts and boxers down his thighs. Dave eagerly kicks them off as Karkat reaches for more massage oil, coating his fingers and reaching back down to spread it along Dave’s half-hard dick. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, kissing Dave’s jaw. “I’ll give you what you want, just relax.”

He sets a slow, languid pace as Dave’s cock fills out. He thumbs at the head, swiping around and then running a finger teasingly along the underside of his length before wrapping his hand around the base. He mouths at Dave’s neck as he starts stroking, hand pumping lazily up and down as Dave whines.

Karkat plans to take his time, slowly teasing Dave’s orgasms out of him until he’s boneless and sleepy, and then Karkat will kiss him until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Karkat might jerk himself off afterwards, or he might not; it doesn’t matter, this is about Dave.

-

Karkat says he’s got him, that Dave can relax...

Shouldn’t Dave be the one helping _Karkat_ to relax? Karkat’s the one who had a stressful last few days...when he wasn’t complaining about work, he was freaking out over Dave meeting his friends, and then meeting Dave’s friends.

Dave should feel greedy, and selfish, asking Karkat for so much when he already does so much for him. After everything Karkat went through today, now Dave is asking for a handjob, a blowjob, _and_ for Karkat to eat him out?

A soft whine pulls from Dave’s lips as Karkat kisses up his neck as he pumps his cock, which very quickly fills out and starts to leak precum.

“Christ...baby...ohfuckfuu _-uuuuck_...” Dave moans, then bites his lip to muffle his sounds. John was still in the shower, he could turn off the water any minute and come out into the hallway and hear Dave.

Dave bucks his hips weakly into Karkat’s hand with a breathless little gasp. “B-baaabyy—“

-

Dave’s noises are lovely, but then he tries to muffle them and Karkat frowns. John is still in the shower, and should be finishing up soon, but… Karkat is so sick of having to keep quiet. He doesn’t want Dave struggling not to make noise, he wants him relaxed and hazy and out of his mind.

His free hand reaches up to tug Dave’s lip from between his teeth.

“None of that, baby,” he says. “Let me hear you. John can put in headphones. Or listen in for all I care. Let me hear your voice.”

He resumes his mauling of Dave’s neck, biting and sucking hard while keeping his unhurried pace on Dave’s cock. His other hand plays with Dave’s lip for a moment, fingertips dipping into his mouth before he pulls them out and drags them down Dave’s chin, his neck, his clavicle, and starts to feel up Dave’s chest.

-

Ohfuckohhhfuuuckohfuuuck—

Karkat tells Dave he wants to hear him, that he doesn’t care if John hears them—fuck, that’s so stupid fucking hot, holy shit.

Karkat bites and sucks relentlessly on Dave’s neck, but maintains a slow and steady pace on Dave’s cock. The contradiction drives Dave fucking wild, and he lets out a long, desperate moan as Karkat runs his hand down Dave’s chest.

“If you’re this good at t-teasing me now—mmnnah—can’t wait to see you do with nothin’ but sexy panties on...” Dave breathes into Karkat’s ear.

-

Karkat laughs softly into Dave’s neck. He’s not particularly eager to wear panties; he’d look laughable instead of sexy, and he doesn’t have a humiliation kink the way he’s pretty sure Dave does. But he’ll wear them, if that’s what Dave wants. 

“Are you gonna pick out a pair for me?” he asks, smile apparent in his voice. “What kind, baby? Want me decked out in lace? Gonna make me wear a skirt, too, or is that just for you? Maybe I’ll wear them under my suit.”

 _My suit_ , he says, like he even has one. He makes a mental note to message Kanaya about it, and another to remember to insist on paying her. He’s not sure how serious Dave is about this, but Karkat will gladly explore his kinks with him and be grateful at the opportunity.

Dave’s hips jerk forward, interrupting Karkat’s pace, and he frowns, reaching down to grip Dave’s hip and pin it down while he slows his fist even further.

“Keep still, baby,” he says. “I told you, you don’t have to do anything.”

He bites at Dave’s ear and grins at the gasp and moan he gets in response. He’s missed hearing Dave be loud.

-

The idea of Karkat in panties and a fucking suit is so fucking hot, that Dave can’t help but buck his hips forward, desperate for more friction. Karkat’s pumping his cock so torturously slow, it’s not fucking fair—

Karkat grabs Dave by the hip and gently but firmly pins him down. The hand pumping his cock starts to go even slower.

 _Keep still_ , Karkat tells him.

The slower pace is a punishment for trying to take control. Karkat is setting the pace. He doesn’t want Dave to do a thing.

Karkat’s got him pinned like a butterfly to a corkboard, and it’s incredible.

“Oh fuck—Karkat...” Dave moans. And maybe he puts it on a little extra, a little slutty, a little pornographic in the way he whimpers out Karkat’s name.

Maybe he’s trying to entice his boyfriend who’s torturing him so beautifully into picking up the pace.

Nobody needs to know about it but Dave.

“Karkat, baby...Ka—mmnnahh—Karkat, pl-easee...”

-

Karkat’s breath hitches at the sound of Dave moaning his name, letting it fall from his lips like a prayer, and he’s suddenly painfully aware of his own hard cock tenting his pants. But he determinedly ignores it, because this is about his gorgeous, perfect boyfriend and making him feel as good as possible.

“Please what, baby?” he asks innocently. “Tell me what you want.”

Maybe he’s being a jackass, teasing Dave like this. Maybe he should move his hand the way he had that morning, quick and desperate. But he won’t unless Dave asks him to.

-

Karkat asks him, voice sweet as sugar, for Dave to tell him what he wants.

Motherfucker was doing this on purpose. Well, why did it have to be all about driving Dave crazy tonight? Dave doesn’t want it to be all about him, Karkat doesn’t need to ‘make up for’ anything, he already apologized...the best way Karkat can make it up to Dave is by not making this all about him, and letting Dave make him feel good too.

Karkat is hard, Dave can’t feel it against his back. What kind of fucking boyfriend would he be if he left that unattended? What would Karkat do, after making Dave cum from his hands and his mouth? Just fucking jerk off in the bathroom alone again?? Fuck that noise.

“Wan-wanna...mmmhh...” Dave tries to get out the words, but it’s proving pretty difficult with his boyfriend’s incredibly teasing touch on his dick.

Dave turns his head to tuck it into the crook of Karkat’s neck, bringing his arm up to wrap around and bury his fingers into Karkat’s hair.

“Y-you too, ba-aby,” Dave pants, “wanna...touch...please?”

-

Karkat is surprised. He’d expected something like _more, faster, harder_ , but here Dave is, gripping at Karkat’s hair and asking to touch him, too. This is supposed to be about _Dave_ , Dave’s pleasure, not Karkat’s. But Karkat did say he’d give him everything…

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says softly. “I’ll let you touch me, but only if you’re good and cum for me first. Can you keep still, baby? Just let me make you feel good.”

His hand is still pinning Dave’s hip to the bed, the other inching up his dick to rub a slow circle at the head, smearing around the bead of precum that gathered there.

Karkat will let Dave touch him even if he can’t stop himself from humping into Karkat’s fist, because he’s a pushover and doesn’t think he could deny Dave anything. Miraculously, Dave doesn’t seem to have figured out _just_ how tightly Karkat is wrapped around his little finger.

-

Karkat tells Dave to be _good_ and cum for him, to keep still and let Karkat make him feel good, and god that is the hottest fucking shit—everything that’s coming out of his gorgeous boyfriend’s beautiful mouth is sending fire right to Dave’s dick. Karkat wants him to cum? It isn’t going to take much more, with Karkat’s words pouring into his ears like warm syrup, and his hand lazily pulling on his cock, pulling his orgasm from him deliciously slow.

When Dave cums, it actually kind of sneaks up on him. When he’s getting a handjob (or doing one on himself) he tends to just go to town until he cums, quick and hard. He’s not used to this slow, languid touch—so he cums desperate but _soft_ , spilling over Karkat’s fingers and a bit on his stomach.

Dave pants and moans as Karkat keeps pumping his dick as he comes down from his orgasm, until Dave whines from the overstimulation and starts to go soft. Karkat takes his hand away and Dave is quickly twisting around, steadying himself by pressing his hand into Karkat’s chest as he leans in to kiss him, wet and messy.

“Can I touch you now, baby...?” Dave asks softly, running his hand down Karkat’s chest, letting his fingertips graze along the tent in his boyfriend’s pants.

-

Dave squirms but his hips stay planted as Karkat keeps up his teasing pace, and that sends a wave of arousal and affection crashing through him. Karkat pours praise into Dave until he cums, gasping and twitching, taking them both by surprise. Karkat thought it would take much longer, but maybe he got Dave worked up enough with his words.

A metaphorical lightbulb turns on above his head. Could Dave get off with _just_ Karkat talking to him? Oh god, that would be so hot. Is that even possible? Dave has a hair trigger when it comes to orgasms, so _maybe_...

He shelves the idea for later, but he’ll definitely be coming back to it.

“You did so good, baby,” he says as Dave clambers around. He peppers kisses everywhere he can reach as Dave trails his fingers over Karkat’s dick through the fabric. “Didn’t move at all. You can have your reward now.”

His dick is aching in his pants and his head falls back as Dave palms him. He feels a bit guilty, letting Dave do this when he was trying to let him relax and do nothing in return. He should have known Dave wouldn’t stand for that.

“One of these days I’m gonna tie you up,” Karkat breathes out, hands traversing the muscles of Dave’s back. “Worship you inch by inch and you won’t be able to do anything but take it.”

\- 

Dave beams, incredibly pleased, when Karkat praises him and tells him he can have his _reward_ —touching his boyfriend’s incredible dick and making him cum. He palms Karkat through his pants and watches in delight as Karkat’s head falls back. Dave sinks down on the bed as he pulls down Karkat’s pants and boxers, freeing his hard cock, grinning as he watches it spring free.

Karkat mentions tying Dave up so that Karkat can have his way with him, and Dave’s grin widens and he chuckles, low and husky as he lets his breath fan over Karkat’s sensitive cockhead.

“Yeah?” Dave coos, “You ain’t gonna hear me opposing that idea, baby...”

Dave darts his tongue out, flicking it teasingly across Karkat’s slit, smiling as the movement makes Karkat and his dick jump.

“But, for now...” Dave murmurs, “Lemme do this for you.”

Then he opens his mouth and takes Karkat’s cockhead into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and humming in pleasure at the taste. Dave opens his mouth a little wider and starts sinking down onto Karkat’s dick, until his nose buries into Karkat’s pubes. He swallows, letting the head of Karkat’s cock pass into his throat.

Practice made perfect, and Dave had certainly been spending his free time practicing taking Karkat’s cock all the way. He can take it all without his eyes watering now, and nobody is more pleased about it than him. Well, except for Karkat, probably.

-

Dave sinks slowly onto Karkat’s cock, taking him all the way down in a smooth motion. Karkat groans, reaching down to brush Dave’s hair off his forehead as his boyfriend looks up at him through his lashes. 

“You’re so beautiful, Dave,” he says reverently. Dave hums, pleased, the vibrations wrapping around Karkat’s cock and making him gasp. His hand tightens in Dave’s hair, tugging and urging him to start moving. Hypocritical, maybe, wanting Dave to hurry the fuck up when Karkat literally just took his sweet time coaxing an orgasm out of him, but _god_ , Dave’s mouth is heaven and Karkat is selfish as fuck.

He loves the look on Dave’s face as he sucks Karkat’s dick, like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing, like he could go for hours and never get bored. He loves the hollowing of Dave’s cheeks as he sucks, the way he drools, messy and mindless and unbothered, slicking his way along Karkat’s length. Loves how fucking eager Dave always is for this, like it never gets old, even though he’s already had Karkat’s cock on his tongue more times than either of them can count.

“I love you, baby,” he says, guiding Dave’s head back down, pushing past the muscle of his throat. “ _Fuck_ , Dave, more.”

-

Karkat asks Dave for more, and normally Dave wouldn’t hesitate for a second to give his boyfriend what he needs. But Karkat did just tease Dave, so Dave doesn’t see the harm in doing a little teasing of his own before giving his man what he needs.

Dave pulls off Karkat's dick with a wet pop, and looks up at Karkat and quirks an eyebrow. “More what, baby?”

He pumps his hand slowly up Karkat’s cock, and rubs his thumb along Karkat’s slit, collecting a bead of precum. Dave brings his thumb up to his mouth and makes a show of lapping the precum off the pad of his finger—never taking his eyes off Karkat.

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific,” Dave says innocently, running his fingertip down the underside of Karkat’s dick. “I ain’t a mind reader, Kitkat.”

-

Karkat is trapped under Dave’s gaze, watching enraptured as Dave flicks his tongue over his long finger. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up and realize what Dave’s saying, and amusement and frustration well inside him. He leans forward, burying his hand in Dave’s hair, and kisses him hard, shoving his tongue in Dave’s mouth with no finesse.

“ _Faster_ , you little shit,” Karkat huffs when he pulls back, making sure to tug Dave’s lower lip between his teeth as far as it will go. “Is that specific enough?”

He’s going to draw Dave’s blowjob out even longer as retribution, until Dave is begging Karkat to let him cum.

-

Dave grins when Karkat calls him _little shit_ —somehow despite all the buttery petnames they have for one another, Dave almost prefers the affectionate name calling over the gooey lovey-dovey shit.

He’s going to have to rile Karkat up more often, because his boyfriend is extra hot when he’s all frustrated.

“Faster, huh?” Dave says lightly, “A’ight, babe, I think I can vibe with that.”

Then without missing a beat, Dave takes Karkat right back into his mouth and all the way down, hollows his cheeks and starts to bob up and down earnestly on Karkat’s dick. Karkat wanted fast? Dave would give him fast—he’d milk Karkat’s cock with his mouth and tongue until Karkat was gripping his hair and spilling right down his throat.

-

Dave looks smug as shit when Karkat snaps at him and Karkat realizes he has lost control over this situation. Fucking dammit, all he wanted to do was make it up to his boyfriend for being such a prick that day. But fine, he can work with this. Dave earned this, after all; he wanted to touch Karkat, so Karkat will--

His thoughts come to a grinding halt as Dave takes Karkat’s cock back in his mouth in a swift movement, starting up a searing pace that punches the air out of Karkat’s lungs. He scrabbles for purchase, one hand gripping the sheets and the other tangling in Dave’s hair, his hips jolting up wildly.

“O-oh fu-u _uuuck_ ,” he groans, tossing his head back. It smacks against the headboard and he winces. Fucking _ow_. But the pain is quickly forgotten in favor of the magic Dave’s mouth is working on his dick.

-

John steps out in the hallway, shirtless and wearing his Slimer pyjama pants, towelling off his dark hair as he heads down the hallway towards his bedroom. He reaches for the doorknob and—

_O-oh fu-uuuuck—_

John’s hand drops to his side before he touches his doorknob, and his eyes slip closed as though in defeat.

God-fucking-dammit.

John sighs, and then heads into his room and makes a beeline for his headphones. Looks like he’d need them again tonight.

—

Karkat groans deliciously as Dave takes his dick all the way to the back of his throat, and Dave hums at the sound, and picks up the pace even more. Karkat grips and pulls at Dave’s hair and that feels fucking fantastic—however, Dave also feels Karkat’s hips bucking upwards. And most of the time he would allow that because, hello, his boyfriend fucking his face is the last thing one would catch Dave complaining about. But Dave is the one setting the pace here—and Karkat told Dave to not move, so Dave is gonna throw that right the fuck back at him.

Dave pulls off of Karkat’s cock again, taking his hand from where it’s wrapped around the base of Karkat’s dick and instead pushing down Karkat’s hips. “Ah-ah-ah,” Dave tuts, shaking his head. “ _Keep still_ , remember?”

-

Karkat whines as Dave stops sucking him off to be a little shit _again_. This is what he fucking gets for trying to be nice.

“You’re such an asshole,” he pants, slumping down. But he stops rutting up his hips, letting Dave press them into the mattress. He fucking adores it when Dave gets bossy in the bedroom, but that wasn’t the _plan_ , and Karkat pouts grumpily. 

“Maybe I should just take care of this myself,” he taunts, reaching for his dick and raising his eyebrows.

-

“Don’t you dare, motherfucker,” Dave warns, snapping his hand out to snatch Karkat’s wrist. Fuck, he really wished he had use of both hands right now, so he could pin Karkat down into the mattress—make him truly submit. How dare Karkat take advantage of Dave’s handicap like this, making Dave have to multitask and micromanage Karkat’s every move.

He loves every minute of it.

“You keep those hot little hands to yourself.” Dave says. Then a pause, and he adds on quickly, “Okay, shit choice of words. Obviously I don’t mean ‘to yourself’ as in touch yourself, I mean keep your hands either in a firm grip on the sheets or my hair or some other part of my person. But all self-touching is hereby off the fucking table. Mom said it’s my turn with the Xbox. In this case, the Xbox being your beautiful dick.”

Dave shoves Karkat’s hand away, then goes back to pushing down his hips, opening his mouth and going back to aforementioned beautiful dick, which he has been sorely neglecting because his boyfriend decided to be a sassy bitch. On with the show.

-

Karkat laughs, grating and obnoxious in the quiet room, a hand coming up automatically to stifle it. It trails off into another moan as Dave takes him back into his mouth, fingers digging into Karkat’s hip as a reminder to _keep still_. Will he bruise, he wonders? He’s left all sorts of marks on Dave, but Dave has yet to mark him up so completely in return. He hopes he bruises.

It’s a fucking struggle, to be sure. Karkat’s self control is in the negatives when it comes to his boyfriend’s talented, gorgeous mouth, but he does his best, hands fisting in the sheets and legs trembling with the effort of not moving until his orgasm coils hot in his stomach and he cums down Dave’s throat. 

Dave takes it eagerly, swallowing him down until Karkat is squirming from oversensitivity and pushing him off.

“Too much,” he pants, tugging Dave into his lap so he can rest his head on his shoulder. 

-

Karkat does as he’s told and stays still, though Dave can tell by how clenched up his legs are that it is taking a lot out of him to behave himself. Then Karkat is cumming down Dave’s throat and Dave groans as he swallows down every drop, continuing to suck until Karkat is writhing underneath him and pushing at Dave’s shoulders. _Too much_ , Karkat says. Whoops. Dave did have a tendency to get carried away when he was sucking Karkat off—Karkat practically had to kick Dave off of him every time because Dave was downright insatiable when it came to sucking Karkat’s dick.

Karkat pulls Dave into his lap and leans his head on Dave’s shoulder as he pants breathlessly, coming down from his high. Dave snakes his arm around Karkat’s back and presses a kiss into Karkat’s hair.

“Love you, Big Kat,” Dave whispers into his ear, rubbing up and down Karkat’s spine, a contented smile on his face.

-

Karkat’s lips twitch into a smile against Dave’s skin at the nickname. He remains still awhile longer, enjoying the feel of Dave’s hand running soothingly along his back as his breathing evens out. He feels like he could pass out right now; the stress of the past two days catching up with him combined with another mind-blowing orgasm bestowed upon him making his eyes droop. 

He straightens up, kissing Dave’s cheek.

“I love you too, you insufferable dick,” he says. “Now move; I owe you two more orgasms.”

He pushes Dave onto his back, claiming his mouth in a lazy kiss. Back to their originally scheduled program. 

He kisses Dave like he has no plans to make good on his promise, until Dave rolls his hips up, rubbing his dick against Karkat’s thigh. Karkat pulls back, an over-the-top look of confusion on his face.

“Do you want something, sweetheart?” he asks pleasantly. “Use your words, Dave. _I’m not a mind reader_.”

He’s feeling pretty fucking smug, throwing Dave’s own words back at him. He can do that too, asshole.

-

_I owe you two more orgasms._

Oh, sweet merciful Jesus. Karkat was going to kill him. They would have to write ‘died from cumming’ on his tombstone. Karkat would be all up at the pulpit with a little black veil on his head giving a tearful eulogy about how fucking good he gave it to his boyfriend before he beefed it from overstimulation.

The lazy, soft kissing is nice as fuck, sure, but didn’t Karkat just say he was going to make Dave cum? Chop-chop, Vantas. Dave ruts his hips up, grinding up against Karkat’s thigh in a way he knows for damn sure looks sexy and alluring as fuck, and there’s no way Karkat will be able to resist his seductive wiles—

Oh, _motherfucker._

Dave’s eyes narrow at the smug, shit-eating smirk on his stupid-handsome boyfriend’s face, having used Dave’s words against him and effectively flipping the goddamn tables yet a-fucking-gain.

“Pretty please, with sprinkles and whipped cream and big ole juicy maraschino cherry on top—suck my fucking dick, you smarmy shitsponge.” Dave says, deadpan.

-

Karkat’s smirk widens as he sits up on his knees. He pretends to think it over, rubbing circles into Dave’s hipbones, tantalizing close to his cock. 

“Hmm,” he says, blinking big eyes down at Dave. “I don’t know. That didn’t seem very genuine to me. Try again, babydoll.”

-

Christ, fucking _babydoll_?

Dave whipped out that one when he and Karkat were playing Monopoly and he put his Southern accent on extra heavy to get Karkat flustered.

God, that was long before they’d kissed or anything. Dave was just shamelessly flirting back then, and figured _babydoll_ was the perfect cliché little pet name to call Karkat. He moreso did it because he thought it would be kinda funny.

But having it turned back on him, in this context?

Hot as fucking hell.

Dave feels the blood rushing to his cheeks and his dick all at once, and he squirms against the mattress, pressing his lips together to hold back a needy little whine. Even though he knows Karkat would just love to hear it, he isn’t going to give this cockteasing son of a bitch the satisfaction.

So instead, Dave knocks his head back and throws up his hand, pressing the back of it to his forehead and closing his eyes, really fucking milking the fake-distress.

“Oh, _please_ , Daddykat, pleaseee blow me~”

-

Dave’s eyes go wide at the endearment and his cheeks stain deliciously red, and oh yeah Karkat hit the fucking jackpot there, he’s tucking that one away for later. But instead of asking _nicely_ , Dave pretends to swoon, calling him fucking _Daddykat_.

He can’t help his laughter, yet again, and affection fills his chest. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Dave’s wrist, still on his forehead because he’s a douchebag. 

“I didn’t know sex could be _fun_ until I met you, baby,” he says, embarrassingly vulnerable. He kisses Dave on the lips once more, swallowing any response he may have had, then scoots down to breathe on Dave’s dick, mouth watering.

He grips the base and kisses the head sweetly, letting his tongue come out to lap tentatively at the slit and taste the salty precum beading there. He kisses underneath the head and slowly down the underside of the shaft, tongueing at Dave’s balls when he reaches the base. He kisses back up and swirls his tongue around the head of Dave’s cock.

Oh yes, Karkat is going to draw this out until Dave is begging him for real.

-

Dave’s expression softens like melting butter at Karkat’s words. He goes to say something equally as sweet and sentimental back, but Karkat steals his words with a kiss. So Dave just tries to pour everything he’s feeling into kissing Karkat back.

Then Karkat’s pulling away, and moving down to his dick. Karkat takes his sweet fucking time kissing and licking at Dave’s cock, not even taking him into his mouth yet. It’s all just warm little kisses and kitten licks, but it still feels fucking incredible, especially because Dave’s cock is still sensitive from its recent orgasm.

Dave was ready to be a sassy little shit again, he was expecting himself to be impatient as hell and demand Karkat to hurry it the hell up. But Karkat’s little comment about Dave being the first person to make sex fun for him...well, it’s put Dave in a tender mood all of a sudden.

So instead of being all bossy and trying to test his luck, Dave just presses back into the mattress, sinking into the sheets with a soft sigh as his head rolls back.

“Fuck...” he groans, eyes slipping shut, his brows knitting together as he bites his lip.

He’s all soft, breathy moans and little gasps as Karkat continues to flicker his tongue over the sensitive head of his cock and press kisses up and down his length.

Dave realizes with his eyes closed he’s missing out on all the action and that’s a fucking travesty, so his eyes flicker open and he peers down to watch as his boyfriend basically worships his dick. What a fucking sight to behold.

Dave reaches down and buries his fingers into Karkat’s thick hair. Not grabbing or pulling, but just...running his fingers through the curls, pushing them away so he can see Karkat’s eyes, admire his dark, long lashes.

“Baby...” Dave moans, “so good...”

Dave squirms under Karkat’s attention, but he doesn’t thrust his hips, letting Karkat have complete control over the pace. Little shivers roll up his body, making his belly jolt.

Dave lets out another little gasp that melts into a long groan, and his fingers weakly grip at Karkat’s curls, as if he just needs it for leverage to ground himself as he rides the wave of pleasure racking his body.

Dave lets out a little whine, looking down at Karkat with wide, dark eyes.

“ _Karkat…_ ”

-

When Karkat feels Dave’s hand in his hair he expects it to be tight and demanding, maybe even expects him to force Karkat’s mouth onto his cock for being such a fucking tease, but he’s pleasantly surprised when all Dave does is hold on. He licks a thick stripe from base to tip, peering up at Dave as he does so.

Dave likes his boring brown eyes, for some reason, and Karkat’s still wearing the makeup Kanaya put on him. Hopefully Dave thinks his expression is alluring and not like, weird and off-putting. 

Dave says his name on a whine, so sweet, and although Karkat is tempted to see if he can get Dave to cum like this, with sweet little licks and kisses, he also wants to enjoy the weight of his boyfriend’s cock in his mouth.

He presses another soft kiss to the head, mentally promising that he’ll try that idea out a different day. Then he opens his mouth and lets his eyes flutter shut as sucks on the head of Dave’s dick. 

He moves down slowly and stops with barely half of Dave’s cock in his mouth, the tip pressing against the roof of his mouth and his tongue licking sloppily around it. He pulls his head back, then forward, taking just a negligible amount more, so, so slowly, like he has all the time in the world to work his way down. 

Dave keeps his hips still, lets whines and whimpers and moans fall loud from his mouth, and Karkat is so fucking in love. He loves how they can switch between lighthearted taunting to tenderness and back again without any sort of fallout, how Dave makes him _laugh_ while they’re having sex, how he isn’t afraid to explore shit with him.

Karkat moans around Dave’s cock when he finally, finally reaches the base, the tip pushing past the muscles in his throat. He swallows around it and hums, then begins the slow, teasing drag back off.

-

Karkat finally starts to suck Dave's dick for real, taking the head into his mouth and slowly moving his way down. Karkat was apparently determined to take his sweet fucking time with this fellatio even if it killed Dave--and Dave is convinced that at this rate that is very likely.

He's starting to get good and needy now that Karkat is slowly taking his dick into his mouth, moaning and whining in desperation as he watches Karkat sink all the way down to base. Just when Dave's dick is finally at the back of Karkat's throat, Karkat pulls back up again, dragging his lips along every inch. Dave curls his back, eyes and mouth squeezing shut--he knows Karkat wants to hear him but christ the sound that threatens to come out of him is just too fucking loud, and Dave has to at least pretend he gives a shit if John hears them.

Dave is worried that if he stifles his noises too much that Karkat will stop again, and that just might fucking kill him. So he parts his lips and a little gasping whine breaks out, and his hips shiver but he still doesn't thrust, allowing Karkat to maintain a slow pace--because as torturous as it is, it still feels amazing.

An orgasm is a long ways away, considering he just came, so it would seem his torture would be going for a while. So Dave grips into Karkat's hair and lets out a high, long moan as he sinks down onto his cock again. He can't believe Karkat intends to pull a third orgasm out of him, after this. Dave was certainly going to have no problems falling asleep after this, that was for damn sure.

-

Karkat is pulling all sorts of wonderful noises out of Dave as he takes his time hollowing his cheeks and sucking at his dick, but Karkat’s heard Dave be unabashedly loud before, and this isn’t what that sounds like. Seems like Karkat isn’t working hard enough, if Dave is still concerned about John overhearing him. He’ll just have to do better.

He bobs his head a tiny bit faster and brings a hand up to cup Dave’s balls, rolling them in his palm, then dips behind to run a finger along the skin there. He rubs firm, slow circles into Dave’s perineum as Dave trembles beneath him. He lets Dave’s dick fall from his mouth with an obscene pop, giving it a parting kiss before he looks up at Dave, blinking innocently at him.

“You’re awful quiet, baby,” he says, dragging a lazy finger up and down Dave’s cock. He leans his head against Dave’s thigh, nuzzling his cheek against it as he gazes lovingly at Dave’s flushed face. “Something wrong?”

He presses harder with his fingers but keeps the speed the same.

-

Look like Karkat expects Dave to shake the fucking walls like he usually does when they're going at it and they're home alone. Only now John is here, sleeping just across the hall--or, awake and grouchily wearing headphones blasting music even though he can't sleep to music, so he just lies there and bed glaring at the ceiling. Either way, John is here and while Dave does have a Thing about public sex and the thrill of getting caught, having his best friend and roommate hearing Dave moaning like a pornstar while he gets his dick sucked is...well, it'd be something to explain in the morning, that was for sure.

As Dave suspected, Karkat took the touch away because Dave was being too quiet--though he did start touching Dave's perineum instead. So he wasn't so cruel as to take the touch away completely, but he definitely isn't sucking Dave off anymore. Which leaves Dave to focus on nothing else but the deep, gut-squirming press Karkat is giving his perineum--Dave has no choice but to let out a noisy, needy keen at the sensation.

"Only thing wrong is that--aah--y-you stopped," Dave gasps out, "Don't stop, baby, _please_...I'll b--" Dave's back arches into the touch as he lets out a hitched moan, "I'll be good..."

-

Karkat smiles, turning his head to kiss the soft skin of Dave’s thigh. 

“I don’t doubt it, baby,” he says between kisses. “You’re always so good.”

Actually… Dave’s thighs are looking terribly unloved at the moment, the marks Karkat worked so hard to put there fading to the point they’re almost gone. Well, Dave could put up with a brief interlude where Karkat worships his thighs, couldn’t he? He’ll have to, because Karkat is determined.

He’s not a complete asshole, though, so he stops teasingly stroking Dave’s dick with his finger and wraps his hand around it, pumping slowly. He bites harshly at Dave’s thigh, eliciting a surprised yelp, and sucks the skin hard before he releases and laves his tongue over the red mark.

Dave has such wonderfully long legs. He’s still skinny all over but thanks to Karkat he’s been gaining a bit of weight and it’s all going to his ass and thighs, and Karkat couldn’t be happier. He spends a long time kissing and sucking and licking at the smooth, sensitive skin, then turns his attention to the other thigh and starts in on that one, humming contentedly at Dave’s whimpers as he strokes his dick.

Finally, he pulls back and eyes his marks. Some are already purpling, and he grins, drops another kiss to Dave’s leg, and turns his attention back to Dave’s dick.

It’s leaking precum onto Dave’s belly and Karkat laps it up before sinking back onto Dave’s cock with surprisingly little fanfare, considering how much he’s been teasing him. But Dave’s been patient and good, not lifting his hips from the bed or demanding more than what Karkat gives him, so he sucks hard and bobs his head quickly a few times as a reward before slowing back down.

-

Karkat decides that now is the perfect time to start marking up Dave's thighs, biting down so hard on the soft and sensitive flesh of his inner thigh that Dave honest to god yelps in surprise. He fucking loves when Karkat marks him up, so Dave certainly isn't about to start complaining about this, especially since Karkat is being merciful and jerking him off while he goes about his business going to town on Dave's thighs. By the time Karkat's satisfied with the marks on Dave's thighs, Dave's chest is heaving and his cock is leaking precum, and Dave gasps out a little moan watching Karkat lick it off of his stomach and then he lets out another sharp keen when Karkat drops his mouth back down onto Dave's dick, sinking all the way to the base. Karkat's cheeks hollow out as he sucks hard, bobbing his head quickly up and down--Dave's legs spasm, his breathing comes out in little spurts--finally, finally Karkat was going to--

And then he slows right back down again, and the sensation is enough to give Dave whiplash.

Dave lets out a frustrated whine, still refusing to thrust his hips into Karkat's mouth (even though it would be so easy), opting to clutch and pull at the bedsheets with his one free hand. He wants to thrash and complain and grab Karkat by the hair and push him down onto his dick--but he doesn't. He has to be good or Karkat won't give him anything--

"Baaabbyyyy..." Dave whimpers, heels digging into the bed, fist clenched tight into the sheets to stop himself from shoving Karkat down, "K-Karkat, baby, plleeasee..."

-

Karkat hums, Dave’s pleas filling his ears like a melody. How can he deny Dave when he sounds like that? He speeds up, just slightly, just enough for a bit of release but still so deliciously slow. Dave’s cock is heavy and hot on his tongue, salty and intoxicating, and Karkat can do this for hours. His jaw aches a bit, but he doesn’t give a single fuck. Dave is the only thing that matters.

Dave says his name so desperately, voice slipping into his gorgeous accent even further, and Karkat’s eyes fall shut to enjoy it. He can’t believe Dave lets him do this, lets Karkat tease him like this, when he could easily grab Karkat’s hair and shove him down harshly and take what he wants. Karkat loves that, too, at least when Dave does it. But having Dave like this, relinquishing control entirely to Karkat, feels powerful. His shoulders are heavy with the trust he’s been given.

Karkat pulls off, chin dripping with drool, and roughly says, “I’ll let you fuck my throat when you cum, baby, but only then.”

And then he takes Dave’s dick back in his mouth and gets back to making his soulmate feel pleasure in every inch of him.

-

Karkat picks up the pace at Dave's begging, and Dave lets out a gasp of relief. It isn't Karkat's regular speed and certainly not his fastest either, not by a long shot. But the pace before had been so incredibly slow that the slightest change to the pace was noticeable and a pure jolt of pleasure to the system.

"Oh fu-uuck--" Dave groans, head pressing back into the pillows as his back arches, "fuck yes...Kark-aat...mmmhh..."

Karkat pulls away with a wet pop and Dave realizes he looked away again, shit--Dave pops his eyes open and looks back down at Karkat, chin fucking wet with drool and gorgeous dark eyes glistening with pure lust. He tells Dave he can fuck Karkat's throat when he cums--and then he gets right back to it, like that wasn't just the hottest fucking thing he could have done, ever. Like it wasn't even shit.

"Christ, babe--" Dave's words get cut out as another moan breaks out of him, and he doesn't hold it back, John Egbert be fucking damned.

Karkat wants him to cum, and that is not going to take much longer. The words Karkat just said to him sent fucking fire straight to Dave's dick, and it only takes Karkat bobbing down a few more times before Dave is slapping at the sheets, legs tensing, back arching as he feels the hot coil gathering fiercely in his belly.

"Babybaby--Kar--mnhaaah--cu--cummnnn---nnn--" Words are completely lost to Dave as white flashes across his vision.

His hand lets go of the sheets and lurches into Karkat's hair and yanks.

"Fuck-fuckfuck--" Dave gasps, keeping Karkat's head in place, "gon-gonnaaa--cummm--"

Dave fucking sobs on a moan as he cums down his boyfriend's throat, gripping tight into his hair as his entire body shivers. He couldn't hold his thrusts back now if he tries, his hips jerking up involuntarily as he fucks himself even deeper into Karkat's mouth, milking every drop as he rides out the last of his intense orgasm before he slumps back into the sheets, gasping for air.

-

Dave cums down his throat, hips thrusting, fingers pulling tightly at Karkat’s hair, loud as fuck, and it’s everything Karkat wants. He drinks Dave down, sucking and swallowing and pressing against his perineum, as Dave goes soft in his mouth. Dave drops bonelessly onto the mattress, spent, but Karkat keeps going, suckling at his cock until Dave lets out a loud whine. 

He reluctantly pulls off of Dave’s dick. But instead of surging up to kiss his mouth, Karkat spends a bit more time pressing kisses to his cock, instead. Dave jolts slightly with every press of his lips and it makes Karkat smile.

He moves up slowly, dropping little kisses and bites along the trail of hair that leads to Dave’s bellybutton, over his soft stomach and up his chest and neck and chin, until he finally reaches Dave’s mouth and can press a tender kiss there, too.

“Hey, baby,” he says softly. “You ready for round three?”

-

Dave thinks that Karkat will come up for a kiss just like he always does after he’s finished blowing him, but instead he keeps sucking Dave’s dick even after Dave goes totally soft in his mouth, and the overstimulation Dave lets out a whine, and at last Karkat releases him...

And then keeps kissing his dick. Dave gasps and jolts with every one like Karkat is zapping him with an electric rod and Dave can fucking feel Karkat’s smug smile against his sensitive skin.

Then Karkat kisses all the way up Dave’s belly, his chest, his neck, chin, and then finally, finally kisses Dave on the lips. Dave’s already a puddle but he still melts under the warm press of their mouths together. His eyes flutter open when Karkat pulls away, looking up in hazy awe at his gorgeous hunk of a man of a boyfriend.

“ _Baby_ ,” Dave says, breathless and incredulous at Karkat’s suggestion, “you’re gonna make my dick fall off...”

It’s not a no. But holy fucking shit. Dave was gonna die. What a fucking way to go.

“I hope you’ve already started writing your widower’s speech cause you’re gonna need it at my dick’s funeral,” Dave mumbles, his words slurring together, his accent thick.

Huh. Add that to the list of Things That Make His Accent Come Out: multiple consecutive orgasms.

His eyes slip closed, he can’t keep them open anymore, as much as he’d love to keep looking at Karkat’s face. Dave’s whole body is so heavy, he feels like a bowling ball sinking into the mattress, getting pulled under.

“Spoilin’ me tonight...” Dave murmurs, reaching up blinding and searching out for Karkat. His hand smacks into what he thinks is Karkat’s shoulder. He has no idea, his eyes are still closed.

“Must’ve done somethin’ good inna past life or somethin’, to score a soulmate like you...”

-

“ _Dave_ ,” Karkat breathes, trying to pour everything into that one word. Everything he feels, everything he wants. Dave can’t see the soft look on his face, the way he stares at his boyfriend like he’s the sun and the moon and the stars, like he’s the only thing in the universe. He leans down to press the gentlest kiss against Dave’s cheek.

“Wanna spoil you every night,” he says quietly, cupping Dave’s face and rubbing his thumb across the freckles on Dave’s cheekbone. “Wanna make you feel amazing all the time. _I’m_ lucky to have you, baby.”

And he does have Dave, whether his words are on Dave’s arms or not. Dave’s made that perfectly clear, from outright saying it to being so fucking eager to meet his insane friends, to agreeing to meet his _dad_ , to every single thing he does for Karkat. There’s still an irrational part of him, waiting for Dave to leave, to dump his sorry ass and walk away because Karkat isn’t worth it, but it grows smaller every time Dave says he loves him, every time Dave kisses him softly and plays with his hair and treats him like something precious and breakable despite his size.

He kisses along Dave’s jaw, light, fluttering things. Hardly even there. He smiles, feeling silly, and leans in to blink his eyelashes against Dave’s cheek, giving him butterfly kisses.

“You need some time, babe?” he asks, tucking Dave’s hair behind his ear. “Tell me when you’re ready, baby. Take all the time you need.”

Karkat will wait for Dave until the sun goes out, if he has to. 

-

Karkat’s sweet words and gentle hands keep Dave from slipping under completely. He doesn’t want to pass out, goddammit, he wants to enjoy this tender fucking moment with his boyfriend.

Dave hums softly, eyelids fluttering as Karkat strokes his cheek and starts to kiss along his jaw.

Karkat asks if Dave needs time, and Dave manages a little nod. Then, with a Herculean amount of effort, pries open his eyes so he can see Karkat’s handsome face looking down at him while Karkat runs his fingers gently through Dave’s hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“Need a l’il time...” Dave mumbles, “else I won’t be able t’feel a fuckin’ thing...be a fuckin’ travesty...”

Every nerve ending in Dave’s body feels like a live wire. He can feel every strand of hair on his scalp as Karkat’s fingers move through it, he can feel the ridges of Karkat’s fingerprint on the pad of his thumb as his strokes along his cheekbone...

And yet his entire body tingles, like a limb that’s fallen asleep. Numb, prickly, heavy and yet featherlight all at once, and no feeling whatsoever.

Dave still has his hand on Karkat’s shoulder, so he runs it up the side of Karkat’s neck and cups Karkat’s cheek, mirroring his pose.

“Kiss me, Karkat...”

-

God, does Dave even need to ask? Karkat leans in to capture his lips with his own with no hesitation, not a thought in his head. Dave makes his brain go mercifully quiet, makes his anxieties stop seeping poison and adrenaline into him. He could kiss Dave until his mouth went numb.

He bites at Dave’s lower lip before he slips his tongue into Dave’s mouth, lazily relishing the feel of Dave’s tongue against his own. Dave kisses back as well as he can, but he’s too fucked out to do much. That’s okay, though, Karkat will take care of him. Karkat will kiss and love and fuck him until Dave can’t think, until his brain quiets too, until all he can think about is _Karkat_.

Karkat thought he’d been in love before. Multiple times. But not a single one of those experiences holds a candle to what he feels for Dave. Dave could ask anything of him and Karkat would say yes without a second thought. He doesn’t think Dave’s realized this yet. Should he tell him? Will Dave ever realize it on his own? Karkat’s fear of being manipulated is slowly dying--Dave wouldn’t do that to him. And if he did, Karkat thinks he might even enjoy it, in the right circumstance.

“I love you, Dave,” he says, panting as they break apart, making up his mind. Dave stares at him with glazed, hazy eyes that make Karkat feel warm inside. “I’d do anything for you, baby, you know that? All you have to do is ask.”

-

Dave blinks a few times slowly, processing Karkat’s words.

Yeah, of course Dave knows—Karkat already does do everything for him. Even when Dave was still a stranger to him, Karkat was selfless and caring and understanding.

Dave doesn’t ask anything of Karkat because Karkat already does everything and more. More than Dave probably even deserves.

How could a person like that not be tied to Dave by fate? There was no way Karkat couldn’t not be his soulmate. Words or no words. It didn’t matter. Karkat was made for Dave.

Karkat says Dave can ask for anything he wants, and Karkat would give it to him. Dave has no doubt in his mind he would.

“Love you too, Karks,” Dave says, voice soft, his lips pulling into a lazy and warm smile.

“I’m too fuck-drunk t’make any big asks right now, so f’now jus’...more kisses.”

-

Dave’s smile transforms his face and Karkat melts. Dave could ask for anything, could _do_ anything, and Karkat wouldn’t flinch. He thinks maybe that’s not exactly healthy, and he _knows_ he has to stop using his past relationships as an example when it comes to Dave, but he can’t help the thought that he’d put up with anything his exes pulled and more, if it were Dave.

Dave wouldn’t do that, though. Karkat says he can have anything and all Dave asks for is kisses. It’s so goddamn soft and sweet Karkat thinks he might cry if he thinks about it too long, so he distracts himself by giving Dave what he asks for.

A long, deep, sensual kiss on the lips, tangling their tongues together. Clusters of kisses across Dave’s cheekbones and nose, imagining he’s kissing each individual freckle. His forehead, his temples, his jaw, the soft bit of skin directly under his ear. Dave sighs beneath him, entirely lax, and Karkat kisses the tip of his nose.

“You wanna sleep, baby?” he asks quietly. “We can shelve this for now and I can eat you out later. Maybe let you wake up with my tongue in your ass.”

That would be nice, too. Dave has woken him up a few times with blowjobs, but Karkat hasn’t yet returned the favor, too tired when he finally crawls into bed to think about it. 

-

Dave shakes his head when Karkat asks if he wants to sleep. He’s pretty sure he’s doing it fast, but he’s not sure. Maybe he’s just rolling his head weakly from side to side like a dumbass.

“Noo...don’t wanna,” Dave gets out. His eyes slipped shut again, so he punctuates his point by prying them open again, “wanna stay up with you.”

Dave’s always crashing on Karkat and it’s not fair. He wants to stay up with his boyfriend just this once, and enjoy this moment for as long as it lasts, not interrupting it by taking a fucking snooze.

“Although waking up to you eating me out sounds real fuckin’ good...definitely can mark that down on the To-Do list...” Dave mumbles.

He grunts softly as he pushes himself more upright, into a seated position, his back leaning against the headboard. There, now that he wasn’t totally horizontal, he might not pass the fuck out.

“Jus’...c’mere, scooch in...keep me awake.” Dave says, opening his arm up and wiggling his fingers in offering.

-

Dave is clearly fucking exhausted, can barely keep his eyes open, and yet he still wants to stay up with Karkat, inviting him in for _snuggles_. Karkat goes easily, climbing onto Dave’s lap and wrapping himself around him like he isn’t twice Dave’s size. He hides his face in Dave’s neck and breathes him in. Dave smells like sweat and sex and Karkat’s conditioner, and it’s fucking amazing.

He’s not doing much to keep Dave awake, though. His dick is calming down, having been ignored for so long after filling out at the beautiful noises Dave made while Karkat was blowing him. Karkat doesn’t mind, holding Dave in his arms and letting his eyes fall shut, breathing in sync.

Two orgasms in a row isn’t nearly as impressive as three, but he has his whole life ahead of him to make Dave cum until he can’t remember his own name.

Dave wants to stay up with him, but Karkat’s own fatigue is coming back now that he’s not hyperfocused on sucking Dave off. His boyfriend is always trying to push himself to keep up with Karkat’s insomnia. It’s sweet, and Karkat appreciates it, but he’d rather Dave take care of himself. 

-

Karkat climbs right into Dave's lap and Dave wraps his arm around Karkat's waist. Karkat tucks his face into Dave's neck and Dave does the same in return, pressing his face into the curve where Karkat's neck meets his shoulder.

They sit there in silence, breathing softly, just wrapped up in one another and enjoying the other's space. Dave could totally fall asleep like this, but he doesn't want to. He told Karkat to keep him awake but instead it seems like Karkat is ready to fall asleep, too.

"This is very counterproductive," Dave says, muffled by Karkat's neck.

-

Karkat is so, so close to dropping off to sleep when Dave speaks. He startles awake, blinking blearily into Dave’s neck.

“ _You’re_ counterproductive,” he grumbles. He squeezes Dave tighter and kisses his neck, not bothering to move his head at all.

-

Dave scoffs a little at Karkat’s jolt back to awareness, as well as his half-assed retort. He turns his head a little and presses a kiss to Karkat’s jaw.

“You’re actually sleepy for a change,” Dave says lightly, “Maybe we _should_ shelve the ass-eating for the night, so I can actually fall asleep with you for once. Ass-eating can happen any old day, but _this_ is the rarity.”

-

“I’m awake,” Karkat protests sleepily. He’s probably crushing Dave at this point but he doesn’t move an inch. “We can keep going.”

With great effort he lifts his head and kisses Dave, his eyes falling shut and refusing to open again. Fuck, he’s really tired. Having several meltdowns over the course of two days is exhausting, and he’s not in the habit of ignoring sleep when it calls to him, but he has a promise to keep.

Sadly his body doesn’t realize this. He sighs against Dave’s lips.

“Are you tired, baby?” he slurs out.

-

Dave smiles softly at Karkat, amused by his boyfriend’s efforts to try and keep awake despite how clearly tired he is.

“You’ve been dealing with a lot lately,” Dave says, leaning in to kiss Karkat’s nose.

Dave reaches up and pats Karkat on the cheek. “Let’s get under the covers, ‘kay baby?”

-

How did this turn into Dave taking care of _him_? But Karkat is far too tired to argue, so he slips out of Dave’s lap and under the covers, immediately placing his head on Dave’s chest when he lays beside him. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, kissing Dave’s chest and throwing a leg over him. Dave is warm and soft and, god, Karkat can tell that he’s going to sleep well tonight.

-

Karkat curls up beside him, laying his head on Dave’s chest and tucking his leg over Dave’s, effectively trapping him in all the best ways.

Dave smiles, wrapping his arm around Karkat’s middle, rubbing a hand up and down his boyfriend’s broad back while he presses kisses into Karkat’s hair. It smells different today, thanks to all those products Kanaya put in it. Still smelled good, but...wasn’t quite Karkat.

“You’re gonna wake up with raccoon eyes.” Dave says, ignoring Karkat’s statement altogether.

Dummy. Nothing to make up for.

-

Karkat hums as Dave rubs his back, the sensation making sleep come even easier.

“Don’ tell Kanaya,” he murmurs. “She’ll kill me.”

Only a few moments after that utterance, Karkat drifts off to sleep. Even before Dave, which is an absolute feat.

-

Dave huffs out a little laugh.

“Your secret is safe with me, babe.”

There’s no response from Karkat, just the soft sound of his breathing. Dave smiles, face buried in Karkat’s hair.

At last, success.

A job well done, Dave drifts off easily to sleep himself within minutes. Maybe with them curled up like this, Dave will be able to lead Karkat out of that hospital tonight, once and for all…

-

Karkat sleeps like a rock. His rest was mercifully devoid of dreams, and when he opens his eyes he finds Dave still knocked out. He carefully scoots out of bed and wanders to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, where he finds John grumpily shovelling cereal into his mouth.

“You look like shit,” Karkat says, taking in the dark bags underneath his eyes. John gives him a withering glare that would be much more at home on Karkat’s face. 

“ _Some people_ kept me up all night,” he says accusingly, jabbing his spoon in Karkat’s direction.

Oh, right. Oops.

Karkat shrugs. John looks moments away from murder, and then his alarm goes off. He drops his bowl into the sink without rinsing it off and heads to the door to put his shoes on. He must have class. John doesn’t say bye, but Karkat won’t hold it against him. He knows what it’s like to go without sleep.

Karkat makes coffee, and while he drinks he works on breakfast. Two omelettes, with fresh veggies and cheese coming right up. He can surprise Dave with breakfast in bed, too.

He carries the plates to the bedside table, and watches his sleeping boyfriend fondly.

“Dave,” he says quietly. “Wake up, babe.”

-

Karkat’s voice drags Dave out of the thick fog of sleep, eyes blinking blearily at the light of day.

Holy shit, did Karkat get up before Dave? Or did Dave just sleep in massively late? He goes to look at the digital clock, but gets distracted by the mug of coffee and the plate with a large, golden and fluffy omelette on it.

B’aww. Karkat made _him_ breakfast in bed this time? He had the greatest boyfriend on earth.

Dave sits up with a sleepy grunt of exertion, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hand as he smiles up at Karkat.

“Morning, big guy,” Dave says, “How’d you sleep?”

Karkat looks the most well-rested Dave’s ever seen him, but he asks anyway, just because he wants to hear Karkat say it so he can really relish in this victory.

-

Karkat loves seeing Dave’s bedhead and sleepy expressions. He rolls his eyes at the question, a smile curling on his lips. 

“I slept great, you smug asshole,” he says. “Stop asking stupid questions and eat your breakfast.”

He passes Dave a plate and crawls into bed next to him, reaching for his coffee. He realizes belatedly that he missed his chance to wake Dave up by eating him out. Fuck. Dave doesn’t seem too disappointed, however, as he attacks his omelette. Karkat isn’t sure how it would work like, logistically, either. Dave isn’t exactly a heavy sleeper. Maybe once the cast came off and he went back to sleeping on his stomach?

Thoughts for another time. As long as Dave isn’t upset about it, it probably isn’t that big of a deal. Besides, there are other things to worry about.

“So,” Karkat starts, chewing his lip. “Since we’re cramming as many introductions in as we can… How would you feel about meeting my dad? Next week? Kankri’s still away at school, so it would just be my dad. We could make a day out of it. Or not.”

Why is he like this? He _knows_ Dave is interested in meeting his dad. He’s already met Karkat’s friends, so the worst part is over. At least he doesn’t have to worry about threats of violence coming from his dad.

-

Karkat shoves an omelette under Dave’s nose and then crawls into bed. Dave places the plate in his blanketed lap and starts cutting the egg up with his fork.

He wants to ask Karkat if he dreamed about anything, good or otherwise (but hopefully good) but then Karkat is asking Dave about meeting his dad. Dave chews on a bite of omelette, peeking over at Karkat sidelong. He’s biting his lip nervously and tracing the rim of his mug, staring down into the cup like it holds the answers of the universe.

Dave grins, and then leans over to peck Karkat on the cheek before sitting back upright and tucking back into his breakfast.

“Sounds like a plan, Big Kat.”

-

His anxiety disappears all at once with those words, and he smiles, leaning over to kiss Dave’s cheek in return. He lingers a moment, bonking their heads lightly together before pulling back and taking another sip of coffee.

“He’s dying to meet you,” Karkat says. “I uh, haven’t really brought anyone home before.”

Not for lack of trying. None of his exes had been interested in a two hour car ride there and back, and Karkat didn’t really start dating until he moved out. 

“Do you want anything specific for food?” he asks. “Otherwise he’ll probably just make everything.”

-

Karkat’s words make Dave’s heart lurch.

So Dave would be the first person Karkat dated to meet his father? Dave is surprised this doesn’t intimidate him, but instead he just feels touched.

Maybe a tiny bit intimidated. He’d have to make sure to make a good first impression on the guy. Get his blessing and all that shit.

_Please let your son stay with me forever, even if it turns out he’s not my soulmate because my family is cursed to never have a soulmate._

Yeah. That’d go over well.

“You make it sound like him making everything is a bad thing,” Dave says, “But to me that sounds fucking fantastic. Tell him he can surprise us.”

-

Karkat hides a grin in his coffee mug.

“You say that now,” he warns. “Just wait until you’re piled high with leftovers because we already filled the backseat. I won’t even be able to see out the rear window. Hope you’re prepared to be on the other side of a car accident.”

It won’t be that bad. But with Dave’s encouragement, Karkat’s dad is sure to go overboard. He’ll probably have to make those giftbox leftovers for his friends again. Normally it’s just a Thanksgiving thing.

Maybe he’ll make some for Dave’s friends, too. He’s not above bribery to win them over. It worked for John. 

Actually, now that he’s thinking of John…

“Hey, what’s Egbert’s favorite food?” Karkat asks. “We kept him up last night and he looked like he was trying to cosplay me. I should probably make him an apology cake or something. ‘Sorry I fucked your roommate for five hours.’”

-

“Well, it sure as hell isn’t cake. That’s actually his least favourite thing, like, ever. Do not ever make him a cake, he will hate you forever,” Dave says, “As for his favourite food...shit man, other than cake he’s not exactly picky. But he always eats boring and plain shit cause neither of us are good enough to make anything else. He really likes your cooking, though. And he was excited about the idea of trying your dad’s. So I’m sure if we brought home a shitload of leftovers that would appease him.”

Dave finishes his omelette and sets the plate aside so he can scooch closer to Karkat, their upper arms pressed together. Dave reaches over and grabs his own coffee mug and takes a sip. Karkat made it exactly the way Dave likes it.

Dave perks up. Wait. Did Karkat use the percolator by himself?

“You even made the coffee this morning,” Dave comments, “You must have _really_ slept good.”

-

“Yeah, I figured out the convoluted coffee maker all on my own,” Karkat rolls his eyes. “Don’t get used to it. Tastes better when you do it.”

He leans heavier against Dave and enjoys the moment. He’s not used to mornings being something not to dread. Dave makes him look forward to getting up.

“Who the fuck doesn’t like cake?” he asks, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I wasn’t kidding about not being able to see out the back window. Dad fucking loves cooking but he doesn’t get to do it a lot. He sends me home with more food than anyone could eat in a month. I have to give some out to all my friends just so it doesn’t go to waste. It won’t be difficult to give your friends some, too.”

He finishes off his coffee and reaches for his omelette. He has his priorities straight. Coffee first, then food.

“I’ll have to deal with John being a whiny dick for a week,” Karkat says, smiling slightly as he glances at Dave out of the corner of his eye. “Worth it.”

-

Dave smirks behind the rim of his mug when Karkat says the coffee tastes better when Dave makes it. He takes a weird amount of pride in making Karkat’s coffee in the mornings, and it’s always nice to hear how much Karkat enjoys it.

Dave gives a little shrug as he takes a sip of coffee.

“Eh, he’ll probably be over it by the end of the day. It might be a good idea not to keep him up again tonight, though.” Dave says.

He looks over at Karkat and his expression deadpans. “And don’t give me that look. I know you don’t give a fuck about the Egbert Approval Rating but I would rather have the usual dorky, happy-go-lucky John than a grumpy, sleep-deprived one. Doesn’t suit him.”

-

Karkat’s smile turns into a grin at Dave’s expression. 

“You could always come to my place instead,” he offers. “Sollux isn’t nearly as polite as John, though. We’ll have to put a chair under the doorknob.”

Actually, Sollux might not even notice, depending on how hyper focused he is in whatever project he’s working on. 

Karkat’s brow furrows.

“Have you even been to my apartment?” he asks. He doesn’t think Dave has, except to sit in the car outside. They started at Dave’s apartment and stayed there, because it was easier. Because they had food and Dave seemed more comfortable there. Karkat has a bag in the corner of Dave’s room stuffed with clothes, his shower stuff taking up space in the bathroom, his toothbrush sitting next to John and Dave’s.

Karkat thinks he may spend more time here than at his own apartment.

“Holy shit, do I live here?” he asks, bewildered.

-

Silence hangs in the air for a while Dave just stares at Karkat.

“In all matters except financial,” Dave finally says.

Then, he pauses, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as his lips pucker in thought. “Well, actually, you do buy groceries. That used to be John’s thing, but I haven’t seen him do groceries since you started staying here.”

Dave gives Karkat a lopsided grin as he bumps their arms together. “Actually, I was meaning to make some room in my closet and dresser for you to put your stuff, so you don’t have to keep living out of your bag.”

-

Karkat turns to hide the smile that splits his face in Dave’s shoulder. They’d talked about moving in together, before, but it was an ‘after’ thing. After Dave’s cast comes off, after they know whether or not Dave is meant for him like he’s meant for Dave.

He feels like he’s buzzing with happiness, like his chest is full to bursting with it. He gets his grin under control and sits back up, taking a bite of his food.

“That would be nice,” he says, after he swallows. 

-

Dave kisses Karkat on the temple when he pulls away.

“Cool,” Dave says.

Then he pulls the blanket off his legs and—whoop, that’s his dick, very much out in the open now. He picks up his boxers from the night before as he turns to sit on the edge of the bed, and pulls them on (he can do it pretty quickly now after all this time, practice makes perfect).

Dave gets up and walks over to his dresser, starting to slide open drawers and condensing things down until he’s got at least one drawer free. He steps out into the hall, and grabs some extra hangers from a box at the bottom of the linen closet, and brings them back into the room.

“I figure any Kanaya Shirts are probably gonna need to get hung up,” Dave says, plopping the hangers down onto the metal bar in his closet.

He steps back and then turns around, swinging his arm around the room as if to say ‘ta-da!’.

-

Karkat watches Dave move around with a smile, quietly eating his food until Dave is finished. He puts down his plate and gets up to press himself against his boyfriend in a tight hug, kissing up his neck and jaw before stepping back.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, leaning over to grab his bag. “Wow, a whole drawer. So magnanimous.”

He’s being a dick, but he happily shoves his shit into the drawer, picking out a pair of pants and a ‘Kanaya Shirt’, because he’s in a good mood and Dave liked it so much when he tried it on before. Kanaya left a few of the clothes he didn’t have a passionate hatred towards. He never should have let her take his measurements, he thinks fondly.

He glances at Dave and smirks, dipping his thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and boxers and easing the fabric down slowly as Dave watches. They fall to the floor and he steps out of them, pretending he can’t feel Dave’s gaze on him and trying to hide his smile. He still feels a small bit uneasy, having Dave’s attention on him, but he’s gotten much more confident.

Karkat likes when Dave looks at him.

There isn’t quite as much of a show made of putting the clothes _on_. Way less sexy, unfortunately. But he tugs on a pair of jeans and the shirt Kanaya made him. It clings to his arms and chest and stomach, and he’ll probably regret it in an hour, but for now he’s feeling fucking great.

-

Karkat slides out of bed and comes and wraps Dave up in a hug, and Dave hums in pleasure at the warm kisses.

He scoffs a little at Karkat's comment. "Hey now, only so much condensing I can do as a one-armed man. I'll go through it properly later and..."

Dave trails off as Karkat eyes him down while sliding off his pyjamas and boxers in one go. Dave is absolutely staring, but from the satisfied smirk on Karkat's face, that's exactly what he wants Dave to do. So he does.

Dave's eyes follow the path of Karkat's pyjama pants sliding down his legs, and then slowly crawl back up as Karkat steps out of them. Karkat's lips are pulled into a tight, crooked line, clearly trying to hold back a smile, but his lit-up eyes are a dead giveaway. They flicker with light just like they do when Karkat gives Dave one of his rare wide grins.

Dave is rooted in place, speechless and unable to move a muscle as he continues to watch as Karkat gets dressed. Which is somehow just as sexy as watching him undress. He puts on what's clearly a Kanaya shirt, because it actually fits him, instead of being two sizes too big. There's nothing momentous planned for today, as far as Dave is aware, which means that Karkat is putting it on just for Dave.

When Karkat's finished getting dressed, Dave finally makes his frozen legs move, stepping over to Karkat and slinking his arm around Karkat's waist. He feels a bit like an unwashed sock next to Karkat right now, with his nice clothes and his washed face. His hair is the same mess it always is, but Karkat always made it work. Dave is standing there with messy unwashed bedhead, egg-coffee-morning breath, in day-old boxers and one sock (the other must have come off in his sleep and he'd find it later buried in his sheets).

Dave is certainly not his most alluring right now, certainly nowhere close to Karkat's level. But he leans in for a kiss all the same, because despite how nasty he is in the mornings, Karkat always kisses him anyway.

-

Dave doesn’t say anything, just walks forward and kisses him and it’s the best thing Karkat could ask for. His eyes slide shut and he slips his tongue into Dave’s mouth, bringing his arms around to slide under the fabric of his boxers and squeeze his ass.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Karkat breathes when they part. He rests their foreheads together and grins wide, unable to help himself. “I like the drawer.”

It’s just a drawer. It doesn’t really mean anything. But it makes Karkat happy nonetheless. He’s never had a designated drawer before. He’s never practically lived with someone he’s dating before. There was always a level of disconnect, a purposeful space that Karkat never tried to cross. That doesn’t exist, with Dave. It’s fucking amazing.

-

Karkat calls him gorgeous like Dave doesn't both look and smell like a rat that drowned in a gutter, and it makes Dave tuck his face into Karkat's neck. His boyfriend is biased to a fault.

"I'll try to get some more space for you," Dave says, "You're gonna need it, if Kanaya keeps dumping all those outfits on you."

-

Karkat laughs and gives Dave a chaste kiss.

“Don’t worry about it, I just hang them up the back of my closet,” he admits. “She’s made a couple sweaters that I actually like but I only wear them to game nights. Don’t want them to get ruined.”

He gives Dave’s ass another squeeze and pulls his hands out of his boxers, instead placing them on the small of Dave’s back, fingers tracing the outline of a scar absentmindedly.

“Maybe I’ll start wearing them more often,” he says, then smirks. “I gotta talk to her about a suit.”

-

Dave shivers as he feels Karkat's fingertips graze over some sensitive scar tissue on his lower back, but not from discomfort, which he thought he'd feel from someone blatantly touching his scars. With Karkat, it's like he makes Dave feel they're nothing to be ashamed of--that they don't make him weak.

Karkat mentions a suit and Dave blinks, his lashes flickering against Karkat's neck. He leans back, giving Karkat a wide look as his cheeks start to fill with colour.

"...Is that so?" he says, and his voice comes out two octaves higher than usual. Fuck.

-

Karkat gets to watch up close as Dave’s pupils dilate, swallowing his irises. It is unspeakably hot. And oh, yeah, Dave is definitely into Karkat in a suit. Karkat doesn’t get it, personally, but he’d do anything if it means he gets to see Dave like this.

“Mmhmm,” he says casually, one hand travelling up Dave’s spine to a larger scar. “Maybe I could commission a nice dress for you. What do you think, baby?”

Karkat is going to absolutely decimate his pathetic savings, insisting on paying Kanaya what her work is worth, and he is going to have no regrets.

-

Karkat's hand moves up to another scar--one Dave knows very well. It's big, and ugly because it didn't heal well. Dave got it back before he'd really figured out how to dress his wounds properly.

But all of that is pushed from his mind at Karkat's words. Fuck, a dress? Dave was just planning to order a skirt off of Amazon or some shit (no judging stares if he doesn't buy one out in public). He'd never considered a full on dress. And if it was made by Kanaya, it would be tailored to his body...he wouldn't just look like a man shoved into a dress clearly not built for his frame.

Then again, the idea of Kanaya making a dress and knowing it's for Dave because she was using his measurements to make it...yeah, that was one way to just broadcast his fucked-up kinks to the world. The last thing Dave needed was Karkat's friends dragging him and Karkat for what they decided to do behind closed doors.

Dave might have a thing for public sex, and the idea of getting caught...but actually getting walked in on was a different story. And he doesn't exactly want everyone to know about what he and Karkat decide to get up to in the bedroom. That was for them.

He's totally beet red now, he can feel it, his cheeks practically throbbing as colour rushes to them. Dave averts his gaze, eyes darting around the room as he nervously bites his lip.

Maybe it would be okay? Kanaya didn't seem like the judgemental type. She also seemed to care a lot about Karkat and his well-being. Surely she wouldn't spill the beans about it to the rest of their friend's and embarrass him?

"...She wouldn't tell anyone?" Dave asks quietly.

-

Dave’s face is redder than Karkat’s ever seen it, his eyes darting around anxiously. His voice is small and embarrassed and Karkat melts inside. He rubs his hand soothingly up and down Dave’s back, fingers gliding over the bumps of old scar tissue.

“She won’t,” Karkat promises. “She won’t tell and she won’t judge you at all, baby. Kanaya loves designing clothes for all bodies. She’s made dresses for men before.”

When she first asked for Karkat’s measurements she asked, completely neutral, if Karkat would be interested in feminine clothes. He’d said no, obviously. He wasn’t even comfortable in masculine clothes. 

“Hey,” he says, cupping Dave’s face. “We don’t have to ask her. We can find you a nice dress online.”

Maybe offering to commission Kanaya was a bad idea. Dave looks _ashamed_ and it breaks Karkat’s heart.

-

It makes Dave feel better to know that not only would Kanaya not tell, that it's also not like she's never done it before. Maybe she wouldn't even think of it as a sex thing, and maybe that Dave just...likes wearing girl clothes.

Which--he doesn't. Not in like, a casual way. It's not like he was about to just walk around in a skirt. It was purely for...roleplay shit. Yeah.

Dave shakes his head a little, as best he can with Karkat cupping his face. "Nah, it's cool. I don't wanna buy some shitty made-in-China piece of garbage that's gonna make me look like a cheap hooker. We can ask Kanaya."

-

Karkat smiles slightly and leans up to kiss the tip of Dave’s nose.

“She’ll be fucking delighted,” he says. “You can give her free reign or help her design it. She’ll fucking love it if you actually tell her what you want, unlike me.”

The idea of Dave in a dress is appealing, in more than just a sexy way. Maybe in like, a strappy sundress thing, showing off his long legs and toned arms, freckles and moles and scars on display as he moves around their apartment.

 _Their_ apartment. 

God, how did he ever live without Dave? Dave brings light and laughter and fun and calm into his life. He grins as he lets go of Dave’s face, spinning him around to pull Dave’s back against his chest, and maybe he imagines fabric flaring out as he does so. 

He hooks his chin over Dave’s shoulder, recalling Dave’s affinity for a certain word, and says, “You’re gonna be such a good wife, baby.”

-

Dave makes a small noise of surprise as Karkat spins him around, smiling as Karkat presses up against his bare back and rests his chin on Dave's shoulder. He whispers the word wife right into Dave's ear, and Dave shivers.

"Baby," Dave groans softly, "That's so fucking unfair."

-

Karkat kisses Dave’s shoulder, moving up to the column of his neck and pressing soft kisses to the marks there. 

“Oh?” He asks innocently, fingers moving up to draw circles around a scar on Dave’s stomach. “What’s not fair, sweetheart? Am I not treating you right?”

-

What a _little shit_.

Dave presses his lips together as Karkat moves his hands up Dave's stomach and kisses up his neck.

"Treat me a little _too_ great, Karks..." Dave says with a little breathy sigh, "Always spoil me rotten."

-

Karkat laughs lightly, breath tickling over Dave’s ear.

“I don’t know,” he says consideringly. “Think I could treat you better. I like spoiling you.”

If there’s one person on earth who deserves to be spoiled, it’s Dave. 

“What do you want, baby?” he asks. “Anything you want, I’ll give you. Doesn’t even have to be sexual.”

He remembers Dave saying that it was nice, sometimes, to just cuddle. Karkat wholeheartedly agrees. Karkat has shit to do today; he has to thank Kanaya for yesterday and ask her about the suit and dress commission, has to talk to his dad and finalize next week, has to head into work later in the day. But right now, Dave is what matters.

-

Karkat told him the other night there was nothing he wouldn't give Dave. And he was quickly proving that, going as far to commission a custom dress for Dave.

Dave turns his head to press a kiss to Karkat's cheek.

"Shower with me?" Dave asks, a little sheepishly. Karkat did just get dressed, after all. But Dave can't exactly shower by himself.

He doesn't care if Karkat thinks he's sexy no matter what, he is undeniably gross and in desperate need of getting clean before anything else happens today, sexual or otherwise.

"Afterwards, if you're not full from breakfast..." Dave rolls his hips back against Karkat's dick, "You can have some dessert. I do believe you _promised_ me."

-

“Can’t get in the habit of breaking promises,” Karkat says seriously. He keeps Dave against him a few moments longer, peppering chaste kisses along his neck and shoulder, running a big hand along his front, fingers dipping into the hollows between his ribs, ghosting over the bumps of scars.

“Alright,” he sighs, “shower time.”

He follows Dave to the bathroom and they get his cast covered. They’re pretty good at it by now. Karkat makes a show of stripping naked, taking his sweet time as Dave watches him with a steadily reddening face. When he’s done, he steps out of the fabric bundled on the floor to push Dave’s boxers down and kisses him breathless.

Karkat washes Dave’s hair, smiling at the relaxed face he makes as Karkat scrubs his fingers along Dave’s scalp. They wash each other’s backs and Karkat jumps, surprised, when Dave’ lightly smacks his ass. Dave laughs at his scandalized expression and they get distracted because how is Karkat supposed to _not_ kiss him when he looks like that?

Eventually, though, they’re all clean and this is about when they would get out. Instead Karkat reaches down to get a handful of Dave’s ass as he kisses him, smiling when he pulls away.

“I think you said I could have dessert?” he says. “Turn around, baby.”

-

Dave blinks a little in surprise when Karkat tells him to turn around. He’d been expecting them to continue fooling around once they got out of the shower, but it seemed like Karkat wasn’t about to wait that long.

So Dave turns around and leans over, bracing his hand against the wall. It’s a little awkward not having both hands to brace himself, but he knows Karkat won’t let him fall.

Even when Dave’s legs turn to jelly and give out underneath his weight.

“Egbert was already curious as to why we had a new shower curtain,” Dave says, “He’s going to be very suspicious if we have to replace it again.”

-

Karkat snorts. “He’ll figure it out eventually.”

John being aware that he and Dave fuck in the shower is the least of his concerns. He should honestly just assume that if Karkat and Dave are out of sight, they’ve probably got their hands down each other’s pants. Coming to find them in the hall yesterday was a risky endeavor.

Karkat gets on his knees. It’s not comfortable, but that’s swiftly forgotten when he grabs a handful of Dave’s ass and kneads it, leaning in to bite at the flesh and duck his head down to kiss Dave’s thighs. He never thought of thighs as particularly sexy until he met Dave, and now he thinks he could spend all day paying attention to just them. 

He teased Dave enough last night, however, so he drags himself away too soon, spreading Dave’s ass to flick his tongue against his hole. He licks over it a few times before spearing his tongue inside, letting his jaw fall open. He thrusts his tongue in and out, curling it as much as he’s able to, licking at Dave’s walls. Saliva pools in his mouth and drips down his chin but he pays it no mind.

-

Karkat kneels down behind Dave and grabs fistfuls of his ass, which makes Dave jolt a little but he quickly melts as Karkat kneads into his muscles and he can’t help but let out a soft groan at the deep massage.

Then the brain hitches on a gasp as Karkat bites him, only to simmer yet again into soft sounds as Karkat kisses at the backs of his thighs.

Dave presses his lips together as a moan builds in his throat as Karkat spreads him and flicks his tongue against him. Karkat would want to hear him, though—so Dave lets his lips part.

John wasn’t home now. They had the place to themselves all day. Dave was off today and Karkat didn’t have work until later in the evening. They had all the time in the world.

And they could really be as loud as they wanted to, now. No roommates to piss off.

“Karkat...” Dave sighs out his boyfriend’s name like a prayer, shower spray running into his open mouth, dripping off his eyelashes and the ends of his hair.

Karkat starts to tonguefuck him, spearing his tongue in and out of Dave’s hole. Despite all the warm wetness surrounding them, it’s the only sensation Dave is focused on. His eyelids flutter as his mouth hangs open, and he digs his forehead into his forearm and he leans further forward, pushing his hips back against Karkat’s tongue.

“Fuck, baby...” Dave whines, “so good...”

-

Dave’s voice saying his name makes his fingers dig into the soft skin of Dave’s ass. The heat of Dave around his tongue is scorching, and Karkat feels it travelling straight to his cock. He pushes his tongue in as deep as he can, moving it in large, slow circles, but it doesn’t feel like enough so he adds a finger, and this way he’s able to rub over Dave’s prostate.

Is it cheating, using a finger too? Maybe, but Dave doesn’t seem to be complaining. He moans loud, completely unhindered now that John isn’t here, and Karkat does his best to reward him, reaching around to grip Dave’s cock, stroking in time with the thrust of his finger and tongue.

Dave is so fucking amazing and Karkat is so fucking in love. He’d spend every second doting on him, if he could. Spoiling him rotten, like Dave said before. Karkat’s offered anything and everything, and all Dave’s asked for is kisses and to shower together. Simple things that Karkat would give freely.

Karkat wants to explore everything that Dave might be interested in. If Dave wants to be his wife, then that’s what he’ll be. If he wants to wear a dress, or tie Karkat up, or any number of other things, Karkat wants that too. He’d prefer not to be slapped in the face, though. Dave probably wouldn’t slap him in the face if he asked him not to.

When Dave’s legs start to shake, Karkat adds another finger, spreading the digits so his tongue fits right between them. He rubs firmly over Dave’s prostate, licking around the rim of Dave’s hole, and strokes his cock faster. Karkat’s own dick is heavy between his legs, aching with neglect, dripping precum onto the floor that’s immediately washed away. 

-

Karkat’s got two fingers worked into Dave, along with his tongue working along his rim and pressing into his walls. He isn’t being supported in the slightest now, with one of Karkat’s hands preoccupied working him open while the other pumps Dave’s achingly hard and dripping cock.

Dave’s legs are quivering beneath him, he has no purchase on the slick shower wall, especially with only one hand. He needs Karkat to hold him upright, to keep him steady...

“Baby, fuck me, please,” Dave moans, “Please, Karkat, please fuck me...I need your cock, baby, please...”

-

Dave begging for his cock sends a pulse through him, a surge of arousal that has him moaning loud. He pulls his fingers out and gives Dave’s rim a final kiss before standing, knees aching, and presses himself against his boyfriend’s back. He wraps an arm around Dave’s waist, supporting him on wobbly legs, and kisses up and down the back of his neck.

“You need my cock, baby? I’ll give it to you,” he says, reaching down to line himself up. All they have is spit and water to ease the way but Dave doesn’t seem to give a shit. “I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

He pushes inside, biting down on Dave’s shoulder and groaning as his cock finally gets some attention. It’s too much to ask to go slow, and he thrusts in hard and fast. If last night was a tease, this is the opposite.

“Go on and touch yourself, baby,” he pants, holding Dave tighter. “I got you, I won’t let you fall.”

-

Karkat bites down on Dave’s shoulder as he pushes inside, giving Dave a burn to focus on aside from the burning stretch of his hole being pulled open on Karkat’s thick length. Dave’s head knocks back and he brings his arm around to wrap around the back of Karkat’s shoulders, fingers gripping into his wet hair.

Karkat’s got a firm hold on his waist, and he’s speared on his cock. Karkat has him, he won’t let him fall. He tells Dave to touch himself but Dave shakes his head, then turns his face towards Karkat, his mouth on his ear.

“Wanna cum on your cock,” Dave groans, “Just your cock. C’mon, Karkat, baby—fuck me, please, fuck me hard—“

Had they ever had rough sex? Certainly frantic, passionate, heady, fast...they could grip and pull and squeeze and bite, they had fucked deep and sensual...but had they ever done it rough?

Dave doesn’t think they have. Huh. Interesting. Also kind of surprising, considering what horny little fuckrabbits they are. Time to milk it.

“ _Use_ me, baby,” Dave growls into Karkat’s ear, “come on, baby, _give it to me_ —“

-

Oh, _fuck_. Dave’s low, rumbling voice in his ear, the tight heat around him, the fact that Dave doesn’t want to touch himself, wants to cum on Karkat’s cock alone, drives him absolutely fucking crazy. 

He growls, low in his throat, using one hand to grip Dave’s hair harshly and push him forward, his other hand digging bruises into Dave’s hips as he pulls almost all the way out and then _rams_ himself in. If Dave wants it hard, Karkat will give it to him hard.

“Spread your legs wider, sweetheart,” he orders, the pet name entirely contrasting with the loud, harsh slapping of skin on skin, the ruthless pace that Karkat sets as he impales Dave on his cock.

He can feel his orgasm building, coiling tight inside of him, but he won’t cum until Dave does, until he’s given Dave what he wants, even if it takes all day.

-

Dave lets out a sharp, keening gasp as Karkat growls and yanks on his hair.

“Oh fuuu-uuu-ccckk,” Dave moans, long and loud as Karkat slams deep, deep inside of him.

Karkat’s grip in his hair is tight, his other hand digs bruises into his hips, his cock buried deep inside of Dave. Karkat tells him to spread his legs more and god there is nothing Dave wouldn’t do for Karkat, in this moment and ever. So he sets his feet apart and Karkat starts to rail into him in earnest.

And Dave’s louder than he’s ever been.

It’s the brutal, relentless pace he’s used to. This is how he was fucked by all the ones who came before, hard and rough and unfeeling...

Only this time, there is feeling. There’s so much feeling that Dave is fit to bursting with it all...

He loves Karkat so much it hurts. Karkat could be as rough as he wanted, and the ache Dave would feel for days to come would be nothing compared to the ache he feels in his chest every minute he loves Karkat.

“K-Karr—kaaa-hahhh-ah-ahh—“ Dave cries out, gripping tighter into the wet curls at the nape of Karkat’s neck.

His whole body gets jolted with every sharp thrust, every one shaking a sharp cry out of him and lighting every single nerve ending within him ablaze with a crackling electricity.

“K—aahfuck—kat—yess—ah-ah—Karkat!”

-

Dave is so fucking _loud_ , his voice rings in Karkat’s ears, Karkat’s own name stuttered out on his tongue, interrupted by the jackhammering of his hips. He pulls at Dave’s hair, yanking his head up, and licks up the side of his neck before biting harshly.

“Love you, baby,” he grunts, feet almost slipping out from under him. His motions falter for a moment but he picks it right back up the next. “Cum for me, Dave.”

He adjusts his angle so his dick is ramming into Dave’s prostate with every thrust. Dave is so wonderfully tight around him, his moans like a fucking symphony, reverberating back in the room. He lets go of Dave’s hair to drag his nails roughly down his back, red lines raising along the skin in their wake. 

They’ve never fucked like this before. It’s been desperate, frantic even, but it’s never been like this. Karkat isn’t kinky; he’s probably the most vanilla person in his friend group. He’s never enjoyed hurting people, in any circumstance, but Dave’s reactions spur him on, make him want to give his boyfriend a reason to be louder, to forget everything but Karkat’s name and Karkat’s name alone. 

He leans forward, pressing his body against the scratch marks he just made, and says, “Cum on my cock, sweetheart.”

Then he bites hard into Dave’s shoulder and doesn’t let go, even when the taste of copper bursts on his tongue.

-

Karkat shifts and when he slams back into Dave again, Dave sees sparks shoot across his vision, and it happens over and over and over until his vision goes white.

It’s a good thing Karkat has such a grip on him because Dave would absolutely crumple to the floor, having his prostate slammed into like this again and again with such ferocity every time.

Dave can’t even think, his mouth is hanging open but only little guttural sounds come out, no words. He can hear Karkat’s low, lovely voice telling him something—

_Cum for me—_

_Cum on my cock—_

Karkat doesn’t need to say it a third time. Dave cums hard and fast, his cum shooting out of him in an arcing streak that splatters against the shower wall and quickly gets washed away.

“B-ba—bab—babyyy—hah—aah—Ka—Karka—hhhaah—Karkat—“

-

Dave tenses beneath him, clenching around his cock and making Karkat give a full body shudder as his eyes roll back and he spills inside Dave, his orgasm cresting like a wave. He rides it out, plunging into Dave again and again until it’s too much and he has to stop, his cock slipping out.

He has to force himself to unclench his jaw, to release Dave’s shoulder from his teeth. To his horror, he sees a red bitemark, too fucking deep, blood being washed away in little pink rivulets. He tastes metal in his mouth, thick and heavy.

“Fuck,” he gasps, tugging Dave carefully up. He’s boneless in Karkat’s arms, held up only by Karkat’s arm around his waist, his hand on his chest. His head lolls back against Karkat’s shoulder as he inspects the wound.

“Dave?” he asks anxiously. “Are you okay?”

Fuck, of course he’s not okay. Karkat bit into him like he was trying to rip a piece off. Oh fuck, what if this scars? Dave has enough fucking scars already, he doesn’t need Karkat adding to them. 

Oh god, he hurt his boyfriend. Is he… is he abusive? Panic surges up inside of him, making his chest tight.


	13. Chapter 13

Dave is heavy and light all at once, floating somewhere by the ceiling while also being kept upright entirely by Karkat. Are his feet even on the floor? He should probably try to support himself at least a little bit.

Karkat’s asking him something, and he sounds...shit, he sounds distressed. Maybe he thinks he broke Dave’s brain. Heh, well, he kinda did...

As he starts to slowly flutter down from his intense high, he feels a stinging sensation in his shoulder. It throbs a bit, but it’s nothing Dave can’t handle. In fact, looking back on it, it might have been what really pushed him over the edge, even more than Karkat’s words. He’d been so wrapped up in everything he hadn’t even felt the bite—and yet at the same time, the bite was all he’d felt, and it had been incredible.

“Mhhmmm,” Dave manages to hum, because Karkat was still waiting on a response.

Karkat didn’t need to sound so worried. He’d bitten Dave before, he knew Dave liked it. And Karkat loved marking Dave up. He always made sure Dave had at least one hickey at all times.

“Felt good...” Dave murmurs, pressing his face into Karkat’s neck as he tries to plant his feet a little more firmly on the ground.

-

Dave’s voice is quiet and sounds far away, which only adds to Karkat’s panic. He’s still limp in his arms, but he rolls his head to hide his face in Karkat’s neck, whispering that it _felt good_. Fuck, maybe it did, but that doesn’t make it _okay_. Karkat loves marking Dave up but he fucking broke skin and the bite is still fucking bleeding.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuckfuckfuck. Okay, baby, c’mon.”

He lifts Dave up and out of the shower, using his foot to knock the lid of the toilet down to sit Dave on top of it. They’re both dripping water everywhere but Karkat doesn’t give a shit. He fumbles under the sink for the first aid kit and grabs a washcloth.

Dave blinks blearily up at him as he cleans the wound with soap and water, then slathers it with antibacterial ointment and covers it with a square of gauze, taping it down. His anxiety quells while he has something to focus on but immediately returns once he’s finished.

He cups Dave’s face, trying to be as gentle as possible. Isn’t this what abusers do, though? Hurt people and try to make up for it before hurting them again? Fuck, god, he can’t believe his friends ever though _he_ was abused. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

-

Dave is still floating around in a euphoric daze for a bit after Karkat pulls him from the shower. He jumps as he sits down on the cold toilet seat and then starts giggling.

His mirth dies down after a moment but he still has a hazy smile on his face as he blearily watches Karkat putter around in the steamy room. What’s the big deal? Why does Karkat look so worried?

Dave feels water droplets running down his skin, and it tickles a bit. He squirms a bit on the seat. The plastic bag on his cast is dripping wet, large droplets keep falling into his lap.

A flash of red catches Dave’s eye, and he looks down at his right arm. There’s a red streak running down his arm, and he follows it up, up to his shoulder where.

_Ohh._

Dave’s orgasm-high is just a light, lingering tingle by this point, so he’s finally able to think coherently. Karkat washes the bite mark with soap and water, drying the area thoroughly before slathering on ointment and pressing a piece of gauze to the wound.

Strange.

Last time Dave was in a bathroom tending to a wound, he was back in Houston. For a moment, while Karkat is dressing the wound, Dave’s eyes get far away, and he’s back there. He’s back in Houston.

Only that’s stupid, because Karkat is here. Karkat’s hands on him are so gentle and careful, handling Dave like he’s a delicate piece of china. Even though he’d just handled him so roughly in the shower.

Dave had liked it.

But he likes this, too. The gentle aftermath.

He blinks as he feels Karkat’s warm hands cup his face, and Dave looks at Karkat properly. His hands are trembling where they rest on Dave’s cheeks, and his eyes are wide with worry and...fear?

Karkat apologizes, and his voice comes out so _small_ , so scared.

Dave liked it. He wants to tell Karkat it’s okay, but...

Maybe it’s not okay. Maybe he’s weird for liking it. Just like he’s weird for wanting to wear a skirt and be called Karkat’s wife, for liking the idea of someone hearing them fuck.

Dave brings his hand up and presses it to the back of one of Karkat’s hands, his thumb stroking over Karkat’s knuckles.

“It’s okay.” Dave says quietly.

_I liked it. I’m sorry, too._

_I’m sorry I liked it._

_I’m sorry your soulmate has to be someone as weird as me._

-

Karkat allows himself a few precious seconds to enjoy Dave’s touch before he pulls his hand away and starts undoing the covering on Dave’s cast, tossing the wet bags into the garbage. He grabs a towel and carefully dries Dave off, then himself, but he hesitates when normally he’d scoop Dave into his arms and carry him to the bedroom.

“C’mon,” he urges instead, grabbing their clothes and leading the way down the hall, leaving the bathroom a sopping mess. Whatever, it’ll dry. Or Karkat will deal with it later.

“Sit down, Dave,” he says. Dave sits on the edge of the bed and Karkat sits next to him. He realizes too late that maybe he should have grabbed them some boxers first.

He wants to take Dave’s hand, but instead he focuses on picking at the skin around his nails.

“I know you said it’s okay, but it’s not,” Karkat starts. “I shouldn’t have bit you so hard. If we’re going to do shit like that we have to talk about it first.”

Karkat… doesn’t like hurting people. He doesn’t. Even in a sexy setting. If it’s something Dave is interested in, he’ll make an exception, but only if they do it _right_ , with plenty of non-sexual communication. Otherwise it’s just… Karkat losing control and hurting his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. He sees the bite in his mind’s eye. A gross little part of him hopes it _does_ scar, and he shoves that deep, deep down.

-

Karkat doesn’t say anything, he just pulls his hand away and starts to undo the tape and pull the bags off of Dave’s cast.

Dave stomach squirms uneasily. Is Karkat mad at him? Karkat comes back with a towel and dries off Dave’s hair and skin, which is...normal. But it’s tense, too, and that’s not normal.

Usually when they messed around in the shower and then continued to mess around in the bedroom, Karkat carried Dave to the bed. He’d kind of made it into a thing. Karkat doesn’t carry Dave this time, he doesn’t even take him by the hand, just grabbing their clothes and having Dave follow him out of the room.

Dave follows silently, and when Karkat tells him to sit down Dave goes obediently.

Following orders.

Dave stares down at the floor and is a little surprised when Karkat sits down next to him. He was expecting a tongue-lashing the way he’d always gotten one. Looming over head, getting looked down upon. A reminder of where he is in the grand scheme of it all.

But Karkat sits down beside him. Puts them on equal footing.

He still doesn’t touch Dave, though. Dave squeezes at his own knee, and pretends it’s Karkat’s hand instead.

_I know you said it’s okay, but it’s not._

Dave shrinks. Yeah, he...he knew that. He knows it’s not okay.

_I shouldn’t have bit you so hard._

That makes Dave perk up. Karkat thought this was _his_ fault? He still doesn’t look at Karkat, squeezing his knee tightly. His knuckles turn white.

_...we have to talk about it first._

Then another apology. Dave finally looks up at Karkat, his expression one of deep confusion. So it’s not okay, but Karkat would be okay doing it again...as long as they talked about it?

“But we did,” Dave says.

His heart lurches. Don’t argue, you idiot, you’ll make him more mad!

“I...I mean,” Dave adds on quickly, “I told you to. And you did. So we...we talked about it.”

Dave looks away again.

Maybe it’ll be a relief for Karkat now, if Dave doesn’t wind up having his words.

If they have an incomplete bond, it’ll be all the reason Karkat needs to move on, find someone with less...issues.

-

Karkat frowns, turning to look at Dave. Actually look at him, instead of hyperfocusing on his wound or his own guilt. Dave’s shoulders are hunched, he’s curling into himself. His hand is gripping so tightly to his knee that his knuckles are white. He looks… scared. Like he expects Karkat to yell at him, or hit him, and Karkat feels tears stinging his eyes. 

“No, baby,” he says quietly. It’s difficult to get the words out. “I mean talking about it outside of sex. What’s okay and what’s not, what makes you uncomfortable and how far you want to take things.”

Karkat very, very slowly reaches out to take Dave’s hand, broadcasting his movements so that Dave can pull away if he doesn’t want Karkat touching him. He lets Karkat gently tug his hand away from his knee and he begins rubbing his thumb across Dave’s knuckles.

“If you want me to be rough with you, or hurt you in bed,” --and the thought makes Karkat’s stomach clench uncomfortably-- “that’s fine, but it can’t just be in the moment. We have to talk about it, at least at first. And probably afterwards, too.”

Fuck, Karkat’s going to have to do more research. Everything he’s saying he’s recalling from the many conversations his friends have had. He doesn’t have firsthand experience with this. He hopes he’s getting it right.

“I’m not mad at you, Dave, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says. “I’m pissed at _myself_ , for just fucking. Hurting you like that. I made you _bleed_. You already have so many fucking scars, baby, what if that sent you into a panic attack? We can’t just do shit like that without checking in with each other.”

-

Karkat calls him baby again, and his voice is quiet but soft. He reaches out and takes Dave’s hand, pulling it carefully away from Dave’s knee and then stroking his knuckles gently.

Dave’s shoulders slump down, and he takes a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as relief floods through him. Karkat’s calling him baby, he’s still touching him.

Karkat’s not mad at him. He even says so, confirming it. Karkat wants them to talk about it, before sex, outside of the bedroom.

They had to check in with each other, to make sure they were both comfortable with what was happening. Just because Dave liked it, because he’d wanted it, doesn’t mean that Karkat...

Oh, god, Karkat—

Karkat had been in multiple abusive relationships. He’d had sex forced onto him even when he hadn’t been in the mood—when he hadn’t wanted it.

He’d been hit. Had things thrown at him.

Probably to the point it drew blood.

Dave was a fucking idiot.

“I’m sorry.” Dave murmurs, “You’re right. I should have...made sure. Should have realized… I’m—“ Dave swallows, “I’m sorry.”

-

Karkat’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He squeezes Dave’s hand gently.

“What are you apologizing for?” he asks. “You didn’t do anything wrong, baby. It was all me.”

Is he apologizing for not talking about it first? It’s not like they planned for this to happen. The rougher stuff was even _good_ , until Karkat started clawing Dave up and biting chunks out of him. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, remembering the scratches. “Let me see your back.”

He leans around to get a good look at Dave’s back. The redness has gone down and now all that’s left are thin, scabbed lines. He must have scratched Dave harder than he thought.

-

Karkat’s confused as to why Dave would be apologizing, putting all the blame on himself as usual. Dave leans forward when Karkat asks to see his back, and Dave frowns now that Karkat won’t see it, as he leans around to check the scratches there.

Those are nothing. They don’t even hurt, they scratch each other all the time during sex.

Dave sighs. “But I did do something wrong,” he mutters.

Karkat stops inspecting his back and leans forward again to look at Dave properly. Dave looks down at the floor, eyebrows knitted together and a frown pulling at his mouth.

“I made you do that even after knowing the kind of relationships you had in the past,” Dave goes on, “Maybe you don’t have any physical scars from them, but what if you had a panic attack?”

Dave huffs bitterly.

“You practically did. You were freaking out over a little blood. This is nothing. It doesn’t even hurt...but you got all worried about it and acted like you did something wrong when I’m the one who told you to do it...I told you to use me but...but I’m the one using you.”

Dave’s fist clenches tightly.

“And that’s...that’s fucked up and gross and not okay,” Dave says, “I should’ve...told you. Should’ve made sure it was something you were okay with doing before you freaked out so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation.”

-

Karkat is speechless for a moment, blinking as he tries to catch up with Dave’s thought process. The kind of relationships he’s had?

“You didn’t make me do anything,” he says. “I… Dave, it was good. I had fun, I liked it, until I went too far and actually hurt you.”

He chews his lip, thinking, and says, “I don’t know what my past relationships have to do with this. I kind of have a blood phobia, yeah, but that’s just something I’ve always had. No one’s _hurt_ me.”

Unlike Dave, who was used as a knife sharpener as a child. 

“I’m sorry I freaked out, baby,” he sighs, hand coming up to run through his damp hair. “I saw that I made you bleed and panicked. When we do rougher stuff I’ll probably have to draw the line at blood, unless that’s something you’re really into.”

He glances away, feeling ashamed and not even really knowing why.

-

Dave’s knee jitters involuntarily as Karkat speaks, and doesn’t show any sign of slowing down.

He just doesn’t get it.

Dave gets up, sick of his jittery leg, needing to be up and moving, busying himself. He goes over to his dresser and yanks it open, probably with a little more force than necessary, and pulls out boxers.

He realizes he’ll have to sit down in order to put them on one-handed, sighs gratingly, and heads back to plop down on the bed and quickly pull the boxers on. Dave is about to push himself back off the bed again but decides against it.

His leg is still jittering, so he hikes it up onto the bed and rests his arm on his knee, then his chin on his arm as he frowns off at nothing.

“I’m not your measuring stick.” he mutters.

There’s a long pause. Dave stares off at a single point as he tries to find the words, while also trying to find a way to not...fly off the handle as he says it.

God. He doesn’t get angry. He’s not even mad at Karkat, it’s just...he’s frustrated. Frustrated that Karkat doesn’t understand.

Dave drops his leg with another long sigh, and runs his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it out of his eyes.

“Yeah, my childhood was pretty fucked up,” Dave goes on finally, tone flat with an edge of exasperation to it. “But that’s my life.”

He finally looks at Karkat, and his eyes are wide and desperate, anxious for Karkat to understand.

“Just because you don’t have the battle scars to show for it like I do doesn’t make what happened to you any less fucked up.” Dave says, “Doesn’t mean you didn’t get _hurt_.”

He looks away again, shoulders slumping. Maybe this isn’t going to go anywhere. This might be the one thing they always come to an impasse on.

It took Dave a long time to admit to himself that what he went through was abuse. He can’t expect Karkat to just...get it.

But now Dave is starting to realize there’s parts of their relationship that just can’t move forward properly without it being addressed.

If Karkat doesn’t know the name of his problem, how can he ever hope to attack it?

-

Dave is angry. It makes Karkat’s stomach twist into knots. He shouldn’t have fucking said anything. Dave got pissed last time they talked about this, too, and Karkat would prefer yelling, would rather have Dave throwing shit at him in rage than this quiet, overflowing frustration. At least then he could match it with his own anger, instead of feeling like if he says the wrong thing this entire relationship will come crashing to the ground.

Dave gets up to put on boxers and Karkat feels awkward being the only one naked, so he grabs the blanket and pulls it around himself, bringing his knees up and hugging them to his chest as he swaddles himself up in it.

Not the best position to be in if Dave _does_ start throwing things, admittedly.

“I didn’t mean to compare us,” he says, after a long silence. “Sorry.”

Maybe he should just… stop telling Dave shit about his exes. He probably talks about them too much anyway, and everything he says just seems to keep feeding into Dave’s mistaken conclusion that Karkat was abused.

It’s not like Karkat was entirely innocent in those relationships, either. He never threw shit or hit anyone, but he yelled and stormed off and lied, sometimes. He’s not some blameless victim.

He has a feeling Dave won’t accept this explanation, though, so he keeps it to himself.

-

Dave and Karkat sit on the bed in silence.

Not long ago Karkat had brought him breakfast in bed, and then they’d had incredible sex in the shower that made Dave’s brain skyrocket into such a euphoric state he didn’t know how to even describe it...

And it was because Karkat bit him. Not just one of their usual love bites, but a bite hard enough to break the skin.

And it was because of that bite that they were also now sitting here, miserably quiet and tense. Karkat apologized for comparing them, but—but it wasn’t about the comparison. It was about the fact Karkat didn’t recognize the comparison.

That his relationships with his exes were just as much abusive as the relationship Dave had with his brother.

Dave leans backwards, flopping down onto his back, his long legs still hanging off the edge of the bed. He brings his hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t like bein’ fuckin’ angry,” he grumbles, “Never used to get angry.”

He opens his eyes slowly, staring up at the ceiling as he lets his arm drop, stretched out across the bed.

“Nah. That ain’t true,” he says quietly, “I was angry all the time. And scared. Just wasn’t allowed to...y’know.”

A weak little shrug, then he rolls his head away, staring off at nothing.

-

Karkat can’t help but fuck up everything he touches, huh? They’d been having a good couple of days, even taking into account his idiotic shitfits, and now they’re stuck in tense silence, and Dave won’t even look at him. Karkat would reach out for his hand, but he doesn’t think Dave wants to touch him, either.

He doesn’t know what Dave wants from him. He’s not kicking Karkat out--would he, though, even if he wanted space? 

Fuck, Dave gave him a _drawer_. Will he take it back? Tell Karkat that he clearly isn’t ready for it until he says what Dave wants to hear?

No, Dave wouldn’t do that. Karkat’s never seen him hold something hostage like that before. 

It would be easier if he did. Karkat could work with that. He’s not sure what to do. He’d offer to let Dave hit him, if he wanted to, except he doesn’t think Dave would respond well to that.

“I’m always angry,” he says. It’s not true, of course, and has been less true than ever before since Dave came into his life. 

He sighs, tugging the blanket tighter around himself. “...Should I go?”

-

Dave swivels his head around to look back up at the ceiling again.

“Nope,” Dave mutters, “No, Karkat, I don’t think you should go.”

Dave swings his legs up and then pitches forward, pushing himself up onto his feet. He’d had to do a similar movement plenty of times to jump back onto his feet during a strife.

And that’s kind of what this is, isn’t it? This was a strife.

Dave’s never been in a relationship before, so everything is brand new. That includes the disagreements, and the fights.

Karkat’s been in several relationships, and each one of them had screaming and hitting. Violence and anger instead of communication.

All either of them knew was violence. But violence probably never solved any of the problems in Karkat’s relationships—that’s why they fell apart.

Violence didn’t make Dave’s relationship with his brother healthy and loving. It made Dave scared to step a single toe out of line, lest he face his brother’s wrath.

Even though sometimes he faced it without knowing what he did wrong. Why they were strifing in the first place.

There was never a solution.

“You know what I think your deal is?” Dave says, turning around to look at Karkat, “I think you’re so used to these things turning into cage matches you don’t know what the hell to do when the other party doesn’t come at you guns blazing.”

Dave starts pacing around the room, because he doesn’t want to stand over Karkat as he gets this out. And he needs to move. Moving helps him think.

“You know what else I think?” Dave goes on, “I think that I’m no better. The only way I know how to handle this shit is through strifing.”

He raises his right hand, which is shaking in anger, staring at the calluses forever engraved into his fingers despite the fact he hasn’t held a sword in years.

“My hand is fucking itching to reach under my bed and get my sword. It’s like a fucking Pavlovian response. My body thinks I’m fighting which obviously means I gotta get my sword ready.”

Dave turns around to Karkat and throws up his arm in an exasperated gesture, then lets it drop to his side, bumping against his hip.

“But what the hell would that do, in this context? What, am I supposed to charge you with a fucking sword because we’re having a fight?” Dave throws up a finger when Karkat opens his mouth. “And don’t fucking answer that. Obviously the answer to that rhetorical is fucking no.”

Dave steps forward, jabbing a finger at his bare chest and then at Karkat while he speaks. “Because guess what? No matter what the fuck it is we fight about, I am not going to raise a sword or a fist or a plate or anything fucking thing else against you. Hell, I won’t even raise my voice.”

And Dave doesn’t. His voice is emotional, but low. Exasperated, but he doesn’t raise it to a yell. Not once.

He leans in close, pressing his hand down into the mattress as he levels Karkat with a firm stare.

“And you’re just going to have to fucking get used to it,” Dave mutters.

-

Karkat watches Dave pace the room warily, unsure how to react to this behavior. He remains seated as Dave talks, voice going from calm to bitter to determined, and snaps his mouth shut when Dave interrupts his attempt to speak. 

Maybe he’s right; Karkat has no idea what to do with this. He doesn’t know how to have arguments that don’t turn into fights, that don’t end with days of cold, angry silence until someone cracks and comes crawling back, begging forgiveness.

“Okay,” Karkat says, meeting Dave’s stare. It feels like a challenge, but Karkat doesn’t know what _for_. “Okay. I’ll… get used to it, I guess.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” he admits. “What do you want me to say?”

He’s already apologized, and Dave brushed him off every time. He tried explaining why he was upset, but it just made Dave upset in return. He’s fucking up at every possible turn here, and he doesn’t know how to stop. He feels fucking pathetic, but all he wants is to rewind time and go back to when they were cuddling, sleepy and content.

-

Karkat asks Dave what he wants from him and well...he can’t expect Karkat to just realize what Dave already knows about his past relationships. Dave knows it’s a process.

Karkat says he’ll try. That’s all Dave can really hope for.

“You already said it.” Dave tells him. “You say you’ll try, so I guess I just gotta trust in that, don’t I?”

Dave leans back, stepping over to sit back down on the edge of the bed again.

“How about we talk about the do’s and don’ts of bedroom shit,” Dave says, “So we don’t hit this bump in the road again.”

He scratches at his cheek, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Obviously I’m into some shit that, uh...ain’t exactly typical. I guess.” Dave mumbles, “So, let's talk about it.”

-

Karkat blinks, feeling like he missed something important. That’s it? Dave sits down next to him and his tone and body language shift entirely, like they weren’t fighting thirty seconds ago. Karkat hunches his shoulders, retreating further into the blanket, feeling unsettled. 

“...Okay,” he says. 

Dave just wants him to try. He can do that. But try _what_? To not compare them and their situations to each other? 

“What don’t you like?” he asks.

-

Dave puffs a little air out of his mouth, ruffling some of his still-drying hair as he leans his weight back a little on his arm.

He actually has to think about it for quite a bit, internally rattling off the kinks and shit that he knows about, to the point he literally makes a long hmmmm noise as he ponders the question.

“Definitely nothing with piss or shit,” Dave says, nodding a little in affirmation, “I guess I don’t like blood much, either. The bite still felt good as fuck, but the blood was definitely a surprise. Wasn’t nothing I couldn’t handle, though. I’ve seen a lot more. But, still probably better to avoid it altogether. Especially if you also aren’t crazy about it.”

Dave gives a little shrug, and then looks at Karkat. “That’s all I can really think of. What about you?”

-

Karkat doesn’t have to think hard, but he hesitates to voice it.

“I’m not… super into the idea of hurting you,” he admits. “The stuff we did in the shower was fine but I don’t know. I know I’m a possessive fuck and I like hickeys and shit, but those are… different. I don’t know if I could do anything lasting.”

He reaches back to pull the blanket over his head like a hood, hunkering down further.

“If you want to hit me or something that’s fine, I guess,” he says. “Just… not around my face. And yeah… no blood. Or piss or shit.”

He shrugs. He knows he’s the one who insisted on talking about this, but now he’s kind of regretting it. It’s awkward as fuck and he still feels the anxiety leftover from their fight lighting him up, even though he apparently said the right thing and Dave isn’t pissed at him anymore.

-

Karkat doesn’t want to hurt Dave. Dave can’t help but feel a bit disappointed about that. Apparently the stuff in the shower was fine, but when it got to the point of biting Dave so hard it drew blood, that’s where Karkat drew the line.

Dave could deal with that, he supposes. He said himself he doesn’t want Karkat to make him bleed, for his own comfort as well as Karkat’s (though mostly Karkat’s).

Karkat says _I guess_ after saying Dave can hit him, which makes Dave’s brow furrow.

_Just not around my face._

Dave’s frown deepens. It seemed like Karkat was talking more about what he’d be willing to put up with, rather than what he’d actually enjoy having be done to him, when it came to the idea of Dave hitting him.

Did Karkat think Dave wanted him to...fucking _beat him up_?

“Do you think I want to knock you around?” Dave asks, somewhat incredulous as he turns to look at Karkat. “Do you think I want _you_ knocking _me_ around? I’m not...going to hit you. Not even in a sexual sense. Fuck that. Just because the idea of you taking me in your big beefy arms and pinning me down and having your way with me all forceful and shit gets me randy as fuck doesn’t mean I want you to _beat me up_ during sex. I just...I dunno. I like the bites. Maybe stop before the skin actually breaks, but...I dunno. It was hot as fuck. You saw how fuckin’ blasted I was after that. My brain shot to the moon from that shit. So, yeah, I liked it. Ya boy has a bit of a pain kink, but...I don’t want us to hit each other. Ever.”

-

Dave stares at him like he’s fucking crazy, and Karkat shrinks down smaller, like maybe if he condences himself in enough he’ll disappear entirely. But then…

_I don’t want us to hit each other. Ever._

“You don’t?” Karkat asks, hesitantly hopeful. He’s pretty sure that BDSM shit typically involves hitting, thanks to the unfortunate conversation about his friends’ sex lives he’s been dragged into and only half payed attention to. And even though what they’re talking about isn’t BDSM necessarily, it feels close enough.

But if Dave just wants Karkat to pin him down and be forceful, Karkat can do that no problem. Karkat can even enjoy doing that. Relief starts to bloom tentatively in his stomach. He won’t have to smack Dave around; Dave doesn’t want to smack _him_ around (he could, though. Karkat could take it; he’s a big dude. But Dave doesn’t _want_ to).

He feels… stupid. Incredibly, irrevocably stupid. He has exactly one brain cell to his name and it is devoted entirely to producing too much anxiety.

-

“No, baby, of course I don’t.” Dave says, voice earnest and soft.

Dave can’t take it anymore, and he gets up to straddle Karkat’s legs and then wrap his arm around Karkat’s shoulder, pulling him in for a one-armed hug as he rests his cheek on Karkat’s shoulder.

“Fuck, I can’t wait for this cast to be off so I can hold you properly.” Dave sighs.

-

Dave says _of course_ , like it’s obvious. Like Karkat was just supposed to _know_ , like it’s an immutable law of reality.

Dave climbs into Karkat’s lap, the blanket falling off of Karkat’s shoulders. The cool air of the room makes him shiver, but Dave must really not be mad anymore, since he’s touching him again. 

Karkat winds his arms around Dave’s waist automatically, leaning in to bury his face in Dave’s neck and let his muscles finally ease their tension. He slumps against Dave, feeling fucking exhausted.

“Sounds nice,” he says softly, hands keeping Dave firmly in place, in case he tries to pull away. He wants to apologize for being a fuck-up and an idiot, for assuming shit that Dave never said, but he can’t figure out how to word it without being self-deprecating, and he knows how much Dave hates when he does that. So instead he clings harder, pressing a timid smooch to Dave’s neck.

He repeats Dave’s _no, baby, of course I don’t_ over in his head, the way his voice got soft and sweet.

-

Karkat clings tightly to Dave, as though afraid Dave will pull away. Dave has no intention to do so anytime soon, so Karkat is gonna have to kick Dave out of his lap if he plans on moving.

Apparently he gets clingy after an argument. He’s learning more and more about himself every day, being with Karkat.

Karkat makes him want to learn. To better himself and improve. To experience all the ins and outs and highs and lows of a relationship. Dave doesn’t care how tumultuous it gets, because as long as Karkat is along for the ride with him, it’ll all be okay. They would be okay.

Karkat gives Dave a soft little kiss on the neck, barely there. Not even Karkat’s softer, gentler kisses were this featherlight. Dave can hardly even feel it.

Yeah, no. That wouldn’t do.

Dave leans back, grabs Karkat’s face one-handed (which kind of squeezes Karkat’s cheeks together in a funny way) and leans in to kiss Karkat hard and firm on the lips.

-

Dave pulls back and Karkat lets out an involuntary whine that has him flushing red. He doesn’t even get a chance to play it off, however, because Dave grabs his face and kisses him hard. Karkat’s eyes slip shut. Dave still loves him, he isn’t mad anymore. Everything is fine.

Karkat feels pressure building up behind his eyelids. God fucking damn him for being a crybaby; now is not the time. He tries to get it under control but a few tears slip out anyway. He licks across the seam of Dave’s mouth, hoping to distract him from them.

-

Dave moves his hand to cup Karkat’s face as they kiss, and feels warm wetness touch his fingertips.

Karkat licks along Dave’s bottom lip, and Dave makes a soft shushing sound, wiping away the fallen tears.

“Baby, it’s okay...” Dave whispers, peppering kisses to Karkat’s wet cheeks, his sniffly nose, then back to Karkat’s mouth again. “It’s okay...”

Dave wraps his arm back around Karkat’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he deepens their kiss. He wants to get closer, closer, closer...he doesn’t know how. He wishes he had both arms so he could hold him tighter.

So he just kisses more fervently, hard and desperate and wanting, moving his mouth against Karkat’s rough yet gentle all at once, sensual and firm.

A makeup makeout to end all others. He doesn’t know what else to do. He just doesn’t want Karkat to look so sad and confused and small anymore. He wants the fiery and determined and solid rock of a man he knows and loves back. He’ll just keep kissing him until he’s back.

Like Dave can pull him back out with his mouth.

-

Dave tells him _it’s okay_ , and fucking kisses the tears off his face, which is so damn soft it just makes him cry more. Dave kisses him until they’re both breathless, grabbing onto him and moving close like he wants to hollow Karkat out and live there.

“Sorry,” Karkat mutters when they part, reaching up to wipe at his face. “‘M just glad you aren’t mad at me anymore. Come here.”

He scoots back on the bed and lays down, squirming until he’s curled around Dave, head resting on his shoulder and breath ghosting across his chest. He has an arm thrown over his waist, keeping him pressed snug against him, and a leg tangled between his.

“Do you want to keep talking?” Karkat asks quietly. “What else do you like?”

-

“Well firstly I want it on the record I was never mad at you.” Dave says, running his fingers through Karkat’s hair, which is still very damp. Thick hair took forever to dry. What a hassle.

“I was frustrated about shit beyond either of our control.” Dave clarifies.

He turns to kiss the top of Karkat’s head. The smell of his conditioner is still super strong in his wet hair.

“As for stuff I like, well...” Dave huffs a little laugh, “That’s a pretty expansive list. Especially when it’s with you, because you make even mundane shit sexy to me. I guess...why don’t you tell me stuff you’d wanna try? Or maybe stuff you like we haven’t done yet?”

-

Dave wasn’t mad at him? That’s… odd. But he wasn’t really mad at Karkat last time, either, was he? It’s a relief to hear, though.

Karkat smiles when Dave laughs, his first one since before they showered, probably. He nuzzles into Dave’s shoulder, feeling blood rush to his face.

“I like when you’re bossy,” he says quietly. “Think it could be nice to tie you up and have you tell me exactly what to do to you. Wanna fuck you in front of a mirror sometime, too.”

-

Whoof. He could lay here and listen to Karkat rattle off his kinks all damn day. Hottest shit ever.

Mirror sex had never occurred to Dave but damn if that didn’t also tick off Dave’s humiliation kink in the same go. Having no choice but to watch himself get fucked, to see all the no-doubt embarrassing looks on his face as Karkat fucks him. Fuuuuck.

The bossy thing is a surprise. Karkat did seem to enjoy when Dave took the lead on things, but he had no idea it went that far. He would definitely need to exploit that sometime in the near future.

“So you want me to boss you around but you also wanna tie me up so you have the reins?” Dave says, amused, “Hell of a power dynamic there, babe. I like it.”

He runs his fingers down over the back of Karkat’s neck and rubs at his back.

“I like when you’re bossy, too,” Dave says, “I guess that’s why I’m super intrigued by the whole suit thing. Well, obviously the first factor is that you’d look sexy as hell in a suit. But secondly, you could order me around and shit.”

Dave draws mindless little patterns into Karkat’s warm, soft skin as he ponders.

“I like how you get when I tease you,” Dave goes on, thinking back to the other night with a grin on his face, “Like when you get all flustered or mildly irritated and call me a little shit. Would wanna see how far I could take it. How long I could deny you before you couldn’t take any more...and then reap the spoils because you’d probably pounce on me and whoop, you discovered my diabolical plan, because that’s what I wanted all along.”

-

Dave likes when he’s bossy, which is good, because Karkat is a bossy asshole. He’d never really considered the power dynamic thing, but… yeah, that sounds about right. 

“You _are_ a little shit,” Karkat says, hiding his grin in Dave’s chest. Dave is tracing light patterns on his back and it’s a tiny thing but it makes him feel relaxed. He closes his eyes and focuses on the tingling sensation. “I like that, too.”

He casts his mind about. He knows there are plenty of things he wants to do to and with Dave, but his brain is empty. Completely useless.

“I like when you put on a show for me,” he says, then bites his lip, remembering what Dave said before, about tying him up and making him watch Dave touch himself. “Don’t know if I’d like not being able to touch. Maybe if you touch me instead.”

-

“Like a lap dance?” Dave asks cheekily, waggling his eyebrows with a grin even though Karkat can’t see it. But he’s sure he can sense it.

He’s got his title as little shit to uphold.

-

Dave is probably waggling his eyebrows, the little shit. But Karkat is too distracted by the thought of Dave giving him a fucking _lap dance_ to notice.

“Yeah,” he says, voice an octave too high. He blushes hotly and clears his throat, head bouncing due to Dave’s quiet laughter. “Shut up. Can you even dance?”

-

“Shit yeah, I can dance!” Dave says, grin getting even wider.

“I got moves, baby, trust me,” Dave says, sounding smug as hell.

Hell yeah, Karkat’s totally flustered. The thought of Karkat staring him down and running his hands up and down Dave’s thighs and hips and back and ass while Dave gyrated in his lap is hot as shit. Yet another thing they definitely gotta try in the near future.

“Might go over better once this cast comes off, though.” Dave admits.

-

Oh fuck, if Dave is that confident Karkat’s probably screwed. In the best way, but still. He’ll probably fucking jizz in his pants with Dave fucking dancing all over him.

“Think most things will go better when the cast comes off,” Karkat says. “We haven’t been doing too bad so far, though.”

Karkat’s had the best sex in his life with Dave. He can’t even begin to imagine how much it will improve once the cast comes off and Dave has an entire two hands to turn Karkat into putty.

“Anything else, baby?” Karkat asks. “I can probably list all the shit I’d like to do to you for hours, but I want to know what _you_ want. Is there anything else you don’t like or think you won’t like?”

-

Dave is quiet for a while as he thinks about it some more.

“...is it bad that it’s hard for me to come up with stuff that’s a no-no?” Dave asks, a little sheepish but mostly sounding amused, “Like, what does that fuckin’ say about me.”

He goes back to tapping his fingers and drawing patterns into Karkat’s back as he thinks more about what he would like, because that’s much easier than trying to think of what he wouldn’t.

“I wanna fuck in your car sometime.” Dave says blatantly, “I know we messed around at the drive-in, but I mean all the way...maybe at another drive-in. Maybe someplace a tad more secluded. Whatever rocks your boat. Or car in this case.”

-

“It says that we’re going to have a very adventurous sex life,” Karkat snorts, then says, “oh. We could do that.”

He’s never had sex in a car before, beyond what he did with Dave. He can’t imagine it’s very comfortable. It sounds like it would be cramped as fuck. But if Dave is interested, Karkat will definitely smash his head against the roof of the car while trying to be sexy.

“Wanna fuck you against a window,” he admits, a bit hesitantly. He knows Dave is into humiliation, but would he actually want to risk something like that? Actually, thinking about Dave’s thing for humiliation… “D’you want me to. I don’t fucking know. Call you names and shit while we fuck?”

Dave likes teasing him, likes when he calls him stuff like _little shit_. Does Dave want him to talk down to him in bed? Call him a slut or a whore, or something like that?

Karkat… doesn’t know if he could do that. That edges a bit too close to shit that he’s heard before, when he was accused of cheating because he has friends who are women. But Karkat could try, he thinks, if Dave wants him to.

-

Dave’s eyebrows go up at the suggestions. He hums a little.

“Window, yes. Name-calling...no.” he decides.

“Whatever you say while I’m teasing you I won’t hold against you, of course,” Dave adds on lightly, “Buuut, as for deliberately ‘mean’ shit, even if you didn’t actually think it was true...nahh. Got enough of the real deal during a few hookups in the past.”

-

Karkat lets out a gust of air he’d been holding, nodding.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, relieved. And Dave didn’t even shoot down the window idea. Interesting. He chews his lip, thinking. “What about… using a toy in public? Let me have control of the remote.”

He’s just spitting out shit he’s seen in porn, at this point. But that could be hot, right? The idea of hearing Dave trying to speak normally while Karkat slowly ups the intensity of the vibrator inside him is _definitely_ interesting, if the way his dick twitches is any indication. Dave has such a nice voice, and it only gets better when he’s panting and whining. Would he be able to keep the tremors out of his voice? Stop himself from whimpering?

Karkat hopes not.

-

“Oh fuck, babe,” Dave says, staring up at the ceiling in awe. “Hell yeah.”

Dave rubs his hand up Karkat’s back and twists some curls around his fingers.

“What about you?” Dave murmurs, turning to bury his nose into Karkat’s hair. “I think I’d like to take you out for dinner, maybe go to a theatre...and keep a remote in my pocket the whole time and change the settings depending on how well the date is going.”

-

Oh fuck. Karkat’s breath hitches as he lets out a shaky exhale. He hadn’t even considered Dave using it on _him_. And adjusting the setting based on how well the date is going? As like, a punishment/reward system? Apparently Karkat is incredibly into that idea. 

“We--yeah, we could do that,” Karkat says, swallowing thickly. His dick is starting to take interest and he tries to calm himself down. This is just supposed to be talking. 

“I, uh. I don’t know about the public part, for me,” he says tentatively. “Might have to work up to that.”

Hopefully Dave won’t be too disappointed with that response. Karkat doesn’t actually find the idea of publicly embarrassing himself all that arousing, unlike Dave. 

-

“Fine by me, baby, whatever you’re comfortable with,” Dave says, “if you ain’t into it, it isn’t sexy for me, either. It’ll be way hotter if you’re into it...and maybe a tad nervous about someone hearing you moan when I decide to turn the setting up without telling you.”

-

Karkat would rather swallow his tongue than inflict the sound of him moaning on some innocent passerby. Which is probably hypocritical to think, considering Karkat is loud as fuck when he and Dave have sex, and John is probably uncomfortably familiar with the sounds of his moans. It’s easy to forget to be quiet, though, when Dave is so goddamn amazing. 

Maybe they can settle on something like Dave only turning the toy up if he can be quiet, and do it in the privacy of their home.

It’s nice, though, that Dave is taking what he likes into consideration. That’s what this is _about_ , but still, it’s… nice.

“I love you,” Karkat murmurs. “Do you have anything else? I think we’ve probably talked about enough for now.”

If they keep talking much longer Karkat is going to have a boner to deal with, and that would defeat the purpose of not discussing this shit during sex, probably. Besides, he has to make lunch and call his dad and message Kanaya still, and then after that head into work. Ugh.

He’s already fucking exhausted. Next time they fight it should be at night, when Karkat might actually be able to sleep if the stars align and Dave plays with his hair.

He still isn’t used to fights ending with cuddles and communication instead of rage and broken glass. It’s kind of weird as fuck, but it’s definitely better.

-

“I love you, too,” Dave says back, automatic at this point. He kisses the top of Karkat’s head. “And nah, I think we definitely have some good, uh...jumping off points, now. If I think of any more crazy kinks of mine I’ll text you while you’re at work.”

This is mostly a joke, Dave doesn’t usually bug Karkat when he knows he’s on the clock unless it’s for something really important (really funny memes count as important).

-

Karkat laughs. “I’m not fucking sexting you at work, Dave.”

He props himself up to give Dave a lingering kiss, then sits all the way up and stretches. He stands, going to grab some boxers and slide them on.

He can’t believe he had that entire conversation naked.

“Get up, jackass,” he says. “I already brought you breakfast in bed. You aren’t getting lunch there, too.”

-

Karkat won’t sext Dave at work, and any argument Dave has about that dies on his tongue when Karkat kisses him.

He stays sprawled on the bed as Karkat gets up, taking one last look at Karkat’s plump, gorgeous ass before it unfortunately disappears from sight, leaving Dave to pout at Karkat’s boxers like they’d disrespected him on a personal level. They had, in a way.

Karkat calls him a jackass and Dave grins. It’s nice to see Karkat back to his usual snarky self. Dave slides out of bed and goes over to Karkat, snaking his arm around Karkat’s waist and pulling him in for another kiss.

His Kissing Karkat Meter seriously depleted during all that arguing and talking. Time to fix that.

-

Dave walks up to him, smiling like he won something, and derails his plans for a nutritious, healthy lunch by kissing him. His arm around Karkat’s waist feels grounding, and Karkat’s hand comes up to run through Dave’s hair.

“I’m hungry, shitstain,” Karkat protests. “Let me go eat.”

Despite his words, Karkat leans back in for another kiss, then another. Just one more, just one more. He hums happily against Dave’s lips, and then his stomach growls. He defiantly ignores it.

-

“Didn’t get enough dessert earlier?” Dave murmurs against their lips between kisses, a smirk pulling at his mouth as he steps forwards, pushing Karkat against the dresser.

“I’m all outta Karkat,” Dave says, voice low and husky as he peppers kisses along Karkat’s jawline, “Lemme fuel up a little.”

Karkat did say he liked when Dave was bossy, right? So Dave didn’t see any harm in trying to get his way a little. If he wanted more kisses, he was gonna fucking take them. Karkat’s protests are already half-assed as fuck, and with Dave pulling the whole bossy thing, that’s sure to double his chances of success.

So he plants his arm on the dresser, really wishing he had both arms for the millionth time so he could effectively cage Karkat in.

“Thanks to that orgasm you gave me earlier, I don’t have to charge up too much,” Dave says, kissing down Karkat’s neck and back up again, “one more should do me.”

With that he comes back up and presses another firm kiss to Karkat’s lips, enough force behind it to press Karkat ever further against the dresser.

He pulls away with a wet smack of their mouths, flashes Karkat a smile, then back away and heads to the door.

“So what’s for lunch?” he asks innocently.

-

Dave backs him up until the dresser is digging into his skin, pressing against him and kissing up and down Karkat’s neck. He shivers, a whine building in his throat. Dave fucking _knows_ how sensitive his neck is. He kisses Karkat with intent, but when he pulls away he backs up and smiles, making his way towards the door, leaving Karkat’s head spinning.

“Oh no you fucking don’t,” Karkat says, the moment his brain turns back on. He bolts into the hallway to grab Dave, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall.

“You are such a fucking _tease_ ,” he says through a clenched jaw, and mashes their mouths together, pulling Dave’s lower lip between his teeth and biting hard. Not enough to break skin, but enough to hurt. 

“Maybe I’m all out of Dave,” he says, grabbing Dave’s hair to pull his head to the side and lick a stripe up his neck, coming up to nip sharply at his ear. “Maybe _I_ need to fuel up.”

Dave likes when he’s rough. This is okay. This isn’t even much more than anything they’ve done before, except Karkat lets himself put a bit more strength behind his movements.

-

Dave gets two steps out into the hallway before Karkat is on him like a cheetah hunting down a gazelle, whirling Dave around and pinning Dave to the wall.

Dave beams with delight, his face bursting with flushed heat as Karkat calls him fucking tease through clenched teeth...fuuuck, that’s hot. He loves hornily-annoyed Karkat so goddamn much.

Dave lets out a soft moan as Karkat’s mouth crashes into his, nowhere to go with Karkat pinning him against the wall with his big, strong arms. It’s fucking perfect. He couldn’t get away even if he wanted to. And he definitely does not want to.

Dave lets out a little whine as Karkat bites hard on his bottom lip, gasping as his hair is pulled and he lets his head fall to the side easily to give Karkat access to his neck. Karkat licks up his neck and bites at his ear, and Dave jolts.

“Oh, fuck—“ Dave breathes, “fuckin’ refuel station is open for business. 24-hour access up in here, all your Dave needs fulfilled whenever you need them, day or night...”

He gets a little chatty when he gets a certain kind of horny, supposedly. And that brand of horny was apparently ‘pinned helplessly and really enjoying the hell out of it’ horny.

Maybe he does it just so Karkat has another excuse to shut him up.

All he knows is a wonderful anxious excitement courses through him when Karkat gets like this. All growls and possessive and rough.

-

Karkat wants to manhandle Dave until he’s moaning like he was in the shower, wants to kiss him rough and hear him whimper and make him see stars. More than that, though, he wants to give Dave a taste of his own medicine.

“Since you’re yammering so incessantly I guess you’re just not that into this,” Karkat says, stepping back without warning. “Too bad.”

It takes an absurd amount of willpower to turn away from Dave’s wide-eyed, red face, but he manages, somehow, and walks down the hall without looking back.

-

“I think the fuck not,” Dave says, lurching forward so fast it’s like he fucking teleports.

He grabs the back of Karkat’s shirt and yanks. Dave isn’t exactly an imposing figure but he didn’t fucking train with a sword for 18 years and not build up some strength. Skateboarding kept him pretty fit, too. Maybe he hasn’t done either of those for a while, but that didn’t make him sloppy.

If he didn’t have the fucking cast on, he’d be a lot faster, that was for sure.

Dave shoves Karkat into the other wall this time, and then presses his forearm into the wall right beside Karkat’s head, boxing him on the side Karkat would need to go to keep going down the hall.

“Not done with you yet, baby.” Dave purrs.

Then he leans in quick and crushes his lips to Karkat’s in a searing, deep kiss.

-

Dave’s speed and strength surprises him, and his boyfriend manages to cage him against the wall even with a cast. Karkat doesn’t even have time to be impressed, because Dave is kissing him deeply, slipping his tongue past Karkat’s lips and making him melt. 

Fuck, Dave really knew how to make him feel wanted. It’s addicting. Karkat is tempted to try to slip away again, just to see what Dave will do. 

Instead, he rests his hands on Dave’s hips as Karkat loses himself in the feel of Dave’s lips against his own, the slide of his tongue and the smell of their soap and shampoo. 

His stomach ruins it by growling loudly. He curses into Dave’s mouth.

“Think we can pause this for a bit, babe?” he asks, reluctantly admitting defeat. Fucking stupid useless body.

-

Karkat pulls away with a curse as his stomach protests loudly, and Dave chuckles as he bumps their foreheads together.

“Sure, baby,” Dave says, pecking Karkat on the cheek because he doesn’t trust himself to kiss his lips again and be able to behave.

He steps back and drops his arm, no longer blocking Karkat in.

“So, you never told me what was for lunch.” Dave says, smirking.

-

Karkat sighs in disappointment as Dave steps out of his space. He really does need to eat, but ugh. Valuable time he could be spending with his boyfriend. He grabs Dave’s hands and twines their fingers together as a consolation prize.

“I don’t know,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t get that far before you viciously attacked me with your mouth.”

He leads the way to the kitchen, opening the fridge and glancing inside. He doesn’t feel like cooking anything and they don’t have any leftovers.

“How disappointed would you be if I copped out and made us some sandwiches?” he asks.

-

“Sounds good to me, bud,” Dave says, leaning against the counter with a shrug. “You know I don’t care. Everything you make is good. I’m sure your sandwiches are just as baller.”

Dave really isn’t that hungry, anyway. Karkat’s stomach was really kicking up a fuss, though. And he had to head into work before dinner time. He could always get something at the café he worked at to munch on, but Karkat said he usually only resorted to that when he was desperate.

Maybe Dave should try cooking dinner tonight. Karkat does it so often, and Dave has been lending a hand more often than not lately, but still. It had to be exhausting, doing all that cooking all the time.

Dave wasn’t anywhere near Karkat’s level of prowess, but he’d picked up a thing or two, being Karkat’s assistant over the weeks.

It was the least he could do, to make up for earlier. He’s sure Karkat would appreciate coming home to a hot meal.

-

Karkat makes them sandwiches. One for Dave, two for himself. Dave still doesn’t eat much, and would probably eat even less if it weren’t for Karkat’s constant nagging. He pours Dave a cup of apple juice and himself some water and they head out to the living room to plop down on the couch. 

Karkat devours his first sandwich and eats his second one much slower, grabbing his phone to text Kanaya while he does so.

CG: I’M ABOUT TO MAKE YOUR FUCKING YEAR

She messages back almost immediately. She always takes time out of her day to talk to him, even about the most inane bullshit.

GA: Oh?

CG: I WANT TO COMMISSION A SUIT AND A DRESS. THE DRESS IS FOR DAVE. GA: Oh!

CG: I’LL SEND YOU HIS INFO SO YOU CAN TALK ABOUT SHIT. YOU ALREADY KNOW THE KIND OF SHIT I LIKE. FIGURE OUT A PRICE AND LET ME KNOW. CG: DO NOT LET DAVE PAY!

GA: You Were Right, This Is The Best News I’ve Gotten So Far This Year CG: YEAH YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME. TALK TO YOU LATER

“Kanaya will be messaging you soon to talk about your dress,” Karkat says.

-

Oh, fuck. Dave had almost completely forgotten about the dress thing.

He sips casually on his apple juice, but his quickly reddening cheeks are a dead giveaway.

"Cool." Dave says, feeling his heart pounding.

His phone buzzes on the armrest of the couch. Speak of the devil. Kanaya was nothing if not efficient.

Dave sets aside his empty plate and picks up his phone. Sure enough, he's not only got a new message from an unknown number, but also a new chum request on Pesterchum.

GA: Karkat Tells Me That You Are Looking To Have A Dress Commissioned By Me

TG: yup

GA: I Am Very Excited To Hear About This

GA: You Will Have To Let Me Know As Soon As Your Cast Comes Off So That I Can Come And Take Your Measurements

GA: But In The Meantime We Can Talk About Your Vision

GA: Did You Have Anything Specific In Mind

TG: fun and flirty

TG: maybe a little ankle showing if we really wanna get risque

TG: maybe even a little

TG: gasp

TG: shoulder

TG: truly scandolous

GA: So You Are Telling Me You Want A Strapless Gown

GA: You Would Be Able To Pull Off A Long Skirt Considering How Tall You Are

GA: But You Have Such Long Legs

GA: That I Assumed You Would Appreciate Being Able To Show Them Off

GA: Perhaps A Split Down Either Side Of the Skirt To Give A Pop of Leg Would Serve You Well

TG: ill be honest the ankle comment was mostly just a joke

GA: Oh

TG: you are very right about the leg situation it would be a damn crime not to show those puppies off

GA: I Strongly Agree

TG: what is flirty in terms of measurement skirtwise

TG: im gonna wager a guess and say thats about to the fingertips

GA: That Sounds Like A Fair Approximation Yes

TG: aight so it ends at my fingertips so my legs can have a fucking moment

TG: you said shoulderless but that sounds a bit hard to do without

TG: uh

TG: tits to hold up the dress

GA: I Assure You It Would Be Feasible

GA: But If You Have Another Suggestion Let Me Know

TG: some straps would be good

TG: also

TG: maybe backless

TG: or at least

TG: very little fabric on the back

GA: Absolutely

GA: I Have A Pretty Good Image In Mind For The Dress Shape Itself

GA: I Am Already Sketching Out Some Concepts As We Speak I Will Be Sure To Send Them To You Later

TG: wow shit ok

GA: Have You Thought About A Colour

TG: red

GA: I See

GA: Is There A Particular Shade Of Red You Had In Mind

TG: nah just red

TG: use whatever extra red fabric you got lying around im sure thatll be fine

GA: Okay I Will Simply Use My Best Judgement

TG: trust me yours will be better than mine

-

Kanaya messages Dave immediately, because she has no chill when it comes to fashion. Dave gets immersed in a conversation with her, and Karkat finishes his sandwich, standing up quietly to take the dishes into the kitchen. Dave doesn’t appear to notice, and Karkat retreats into Dave’s bedroom to call his dad.

His dad is fucking thrilled, of course, and immediately agrees to have then come out next Saturday, which Karkat has off. He tries to convince his dad not to buy out the entire supermarket and in return his dad slyly mentions inviting Kankri, so Karkat accepts his fate of having so much food stuffed into his car the muffler drags on the ground.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration. Just barely, though.

After a long period of _yes_ and _love you too_ and even more _yes, dad_ , Karkat manages to say goodbye. He heads back into the living room.

“Dad says Saturday is fine,” he says. “Do I get to know what this dress is going to look like or is it a surprise?”

-

"Awesome," Dave says, "And obviously it's a surprise. Thought you liked when I put on a show. How can I unveil the dress otherwise?"

Dave leans his head over the back of the couch to grin upside down at Karkat.

"Also Kanaya swore me to secrecy," he adds.

-

“That traitor,” Karkat grumbles, leaning down to give Dave an upside-down kiss. It’s much less romantic than spiderman made it seem.

“Can I get a hint?” he wheedles, coming around the couch to gently pull Dave’s phone out of his hand and put it on the table. He crawls into his lap, a leg on either side, straddling him. He kisses softly up the side of Dave’s neck. “Just one?”

He kisses along Dave’s jaw, gentle pecks. “Are you gonna be showing off your legs for me, baby? Knowing Kanaya it’s probably going to be a whole ass Look. Do I get to see you in garters and heels, sweetheart? You’re going to look so fucking pretty.”

He cups Dave’s cheek and kisses him softly.

“Are you gonna wear makeup, baby? I bet you’d look hot as fuck in eyeliner. Make your eyes even more stunning.”

-

Dave hums in thought, trying to decide if he should give anything up. He sighs a little at the soft kisses, his eyes fluttering at the gentle attention, a juxtaposition to their earlier kisses.

Dave hadn't even thought about heels, jesus. He supposed he couldn't just rock whatever dress Kanaya made with bare feet. It's not like he'd have to walk around in them too much, anyway...

Karkat would have him on his back pretty quickly, based on how eager he was sounding now.

"We were in agreement that my legs should get shown off," Dave says, "Guess I better shave."

Dave leans into Karkat's hand cupping his cheek, and bats his eyes at Karkat a little, smirking with amusement.

"Makeup, huh? I'd have to get Kanaya to help me with that one...at least until I could do it on my own, maybe."

-

Oh, Dave wearing makeup _regularly_ , there’s a thought. Dave blinks wide eyes at him, smirking like an asshole, but it really does look alluring. Karkat’s weak as fuck for Dave’s eyes.

“My wife, getting all dolled up for me,” Karkat says, a smile tugging at his lips as he brings a hand up to run through Dave’s hair. “We’ll have to be careful not to ruin that dress or Kanaya will kill us both, so I probably shouldn’t rail you until you’re out of it. We’ll see if my self control lasts.”

This is quite a switch from their usual activities, where Dave is a horny bastard initiating shit and Karkat eagerly responds. But Dave got him all worked up, earlier, and left him wanting. 

John will probably be coming home soon. If Karkat doesn’t want to be blue balled for his entire shift he should hurry things along. It’s difficult to convince himself, though, when Dave seems so relaxed and content under his soft touches.

Whatever. Karkat can get off later. For now, he kisses Dave gently, pulling back when Dave tries to slip him tongue. Dave pouts and Karkat smiles, going back in for another. When Dave tries to deepen it, Karkat pulls back once again.

-

This motherfucker was really gonna call him _wife_ and talk about not having the self control not to rail Dave in his dress, and then not let Dave kiss him the way he wants to?

Karkat pulls away from yet another kiss and Dave lets out a grunt of frustration and grabs the front of Karkat's shirt.

"Now who's being a fucking tease," Dave growls, yanking Karkat forward.

But Karkat is ready for him this time, and he's able to hold himself back, their lips just barely grazing against one another, close enough to feel the other's breath.

"C'mon, baby," Dave breathes, "Don't you wanna get one last quickie in before you gotta go to work? It'll make the shift go by faster..."

-

Dave is getting frustrated, growling at him and yanking on Karkat’s shirt, tugging him close and yeah, Karkat can see the appeal. No wonder Dave is such a fucking tease all the time, if Karkat is this fucking hot and amusing (doubftul) when Dave gets him worked up.

“Hmmm,” Karkat considers, brushing their lips together again, pulling back quickly before Dave can try anything. He bats his own eyes at Dave, not bothering with hiding his grin. “It’s tempting, but I don’t know…”

He wants more of this frustrated Dave, more of the Dave who surprised him by grabbing him in the hall. He’s never seen Dave like this before, but he really fucking likes it.

-

Karkat still fucking denies him, the bastard. Looks like Dave would have to resort to drastic measures.

Karkat was heavy, but although Dave's legs were long and twiggy they were strong. Since he doesn't have the use of both arms he had to use what he had, so he tightens his grip on Karkat's shirt and uses his legs to twist around on the couch, using the momentum to drag Karkat with him until Karkat was flat on his back, sprawled out on the couch.

Dave quickly straddles Karkat's hips, as though worried Karkat might scramble off the couch and run away. At this rate, Dave might just tackle him to the fucking floor if he tried it, arm cast be damned all to hell.

Dave leans down, his eyes flashing and a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips.

"Maybe I can convince you." Dave murmurs.

He presses his lips firmly to Karkat's as he rolls his hips, trying to simulate the body roll of a exotic dancer as he does so, giving Karkat just a little taste of what a lap dance from Dave might look like in the future.

-

Karkat stares up at Dave, dazed, after being smoothly removed from his lap and dumped onto the couch. Dave hovers above him, satisfied as fuck after pulling off that maneouver, eyes dark and hungry. Karkat isn’t even able to get out a _woah_ before Dave is kissing him and rolling his entire fucking body against Karkat’s.

Oh, fuck. Consider him fucking convinced.

He gasps, hips jolting upwards to grind his rapidly hardening dick against Dave’s thigh. 

“F-fuck, baby,” Karkat stutters, moaning as his hands grip at Dave’s back. Shit, fuck. Why didn’t Dave take control like this more often? It was hot as fuck.

-

Annnd there it is. Mission successful.

Dave rolls his hips again, groaning softly as his own hardening cock grinds deliciously against Karkat's. He kisses Karkat deep and wanting as he continues to gyrate his hips.

If time was on their side, Dave would bend Karkat over the armrest and fuck him hard and slow. But alas, John would be home soon and Karkat had a job to get to later. Dave didn't exactly want to put Karkat's legs out of commission for one thing, even if he did have the time to properly work him open.

Considering the time-sensitivity of the matter, Dave instead opts to pull down the waistband of Karkat's boxers and then his own, pulling out both of their cocks and then grasping them both in his hand and starting to pump them in unison.

Dave leans down, groaning at the sensation of their cocks pressed together and being stimulated in tandem. He catches Karkat's mouth in a sloppy kiss, humming in his throat as Karkat's large, warm hands stroke along his hips and back.

-

Dave wastes no time pulling Karkat’s cock out. Maybe if Karkat hadn’t teased him so much earlier they’d be able to go slower, but this is good too. This is _great_ , the feeling of Dave grabbing both of their dicks and stroking swiftly, no finesse to his movements as he kisses Karkat.

Karkat moans into his mouth, nails digging into dis back. 

“M-mmm, baby, pl-ease,” he gasps. “So--hah, so good. Mo-ooore, please, fuck.”

God, Karkat is going to fucking tease Dave all the fucking time, if this is what it gets him. Holy fuck.

-

Karkat gasps and moans underneath Dave at Dave's ministrations and it's fucking music to Dave's ears.

Dave pulls his lips away from Karkat to trail kisses along Karkat's jaw, nipping the skin right along the jawbone between his teeth, quick and sharp.

"Whatever you want, love," Dave rasps huskily, straight into Karkat's ear before biting at his earlobe.

Dave leans back and takes his hand away from their dicks for a moment, spitting into the palm of his hand before going back in, slicking up their cocks. He pumps his hand a little more insistently now, aided by the lubrication.

-

Dave calls him _love_ , voice so wonderfully low that Karkat whimpers embarrassingly, arousal pulsing through him. Dave makes him feel like someone worth wanting, someone worth loving, and he does it with such astounding ease.

Karkat whines when Dave takes his hand away from their dicks and his mouth away from Karkat’s neck, but it’s barely a few seconds before Dave is back, this time with saliva easing the way.

“A-aah, _Dave_ ,” Karkat pants, dragging his nails down Dave’s back. “M’close.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Karkat to tense up, pleasure shooting through him, toes curling as he arches off the couch, spilling over Dave’s hand.

-

Karkat says he's close, so Dave keeps up the pace and doesn't let up. Not much longer after Karkat says he's almost there does he spill into Dave's hand.

Dave leans down to press kisses to Karkat's cheeks and nose and mouth as he works Karkat through his orgasm, coming to his own climax not long after, his cum mixing in with Karkat's on his fingers.

Dave releases their spent cocks, breathless and flushed as he sits a bit more upright. Karkat did say Dave liked to put on a show, and he certainly wasn't wrong. He makes sure Karkat's eyes are on him as he laps the cum off of his fingers, then when his hand is clean he leans back down and kisses Karkat deeply, making sure he gets a taste, too.

-

Dave doesn’t kiss him right away, which is a fucking travesty, but Karkat’s protests turn to ash on his tongue when Dave stares him in the eye and licks their cum off his fingers, eyes half-shut, pink tongue flicking out as he gets every last drop.

Only then does he kiss Karkat, practically feeding him the taste with his mouth. Karkat moans, hands weakly grabbing at Dave’s shoulders. 

“Fuck, Dave,” is all he can say when Dave pulls away, grinning at him, and he’s so fucking attractive it makes Karkat’s heart hurt.

He reaches down to tuck them back into their boxers and pulls Dave in for another searing kiss. 

Then the sound of a key rattling in the front door makes Dave freeze above him, eyes going wide. Dave is incredibly careful to never let John see him without a shirt, keeping his scars hidden. 

Karkat grabs him, flipping him over onto the couch and covering him with his body as John walks in.

“Hey!” John screeches indignantly. “I said no sex on the couch!”

Karkat flips him off, keeping his eyes on Dave, who looks terribly lost.

“Fuck off, Egbert,” Karkat says. “I’m busy.”

John splutters, walking to his room and slamming the door. Karkat relaxes his shoulders, leaning in to kiss Dave on the forehead.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says quietly.

-

John comes in and even though Dave should have known to expect him the sound of the keys rattling in the door makes Dave’s whole body go tense.

Fuck, he’s really let his guard down lately. And that was fine around Karkat. Honestly, it should be fine around John, too. It was pretty lame and pathetic that Dave was still keeping so much from his best friend. But John was, well...John. He was innocent. Not exactly perceptive. A sweet idiot dork with a nice dad who loved him and a normal life.

And for all John knew, Dave was just his weird friend who’d grown up in the south with his older brother who was also weird. That’s all he needed to know.

Dave could handle being weird. Being a freak was another.

But Karkat flips him onto his back and then covers Dave with his body like a human shield, and John doesn’t think anything of it, other than his usual exasperation. John storms off to his room and Dave blinks up at Karkat, who’s looking at Dave softly before he leans down to kiss Dave on the forehead.

...Karkat was always going to protect Dave, wasn’t he?

Bro wouldn’t think much of Dave being so weak he needed protection.

But...Bro wasn’t here. Karkat was here. That’s all that mattered.

“Thanks, baby.” Dave says softly, still looking up at Karkat in awe.

-

Dave’s expression changes as he stares up at Karkat, the fear thankfully fading, but Karkat can’t figure out what takes its place. Dave’s lips are parted, his eyes wide and soft. He’s looked at Karkat like this a few times before, and he was never quite sure what to make of it then, either. He doesn’t think it’s anything bad, at least.

As much as Karkat would love to keep kissing his boyfriend and puzzling things out, John could come out of his room at any time, and Karkat couldn’t keep Dave covered forever. 

He kisses the corner of Dave’s mouth and says, “Of course, babe,” then reluctantly pushes himself up and off of the couch.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get dressed.”

Dave doesn’t need his help putting a shirt on. He’s gotten along fine without Karkat so far, but the scared look on Dave’s face keeps flashing in his head, so he smothers that by smothering Dave. He bats away his hand and buttons up the shirt, kissing his cheek before stepping back and grabbing his own clothes.

“I have to head to work,” he sighs. “I love you.”

-

They head into the bedroom and Karkat insists on putting on Dave’s shirt for him even though Dave has been able to put on his own shirts just fine since he’d gone to wearing exclusively button-downs while his arm was in a cast.

He tries to at least help with the buttons but Karkat swats his hand away. Dave snorts, and drops his arm, leaving Karkat to his work, watching the cute concentration frown on Karkat’s face as he buttons up the shirt and helps Dave step into some shorts.

Karkat puts on his work clothes, looking incredibly morose about the idea of going into work. Dave lets him get dressed in peace, not wanting to distract him, only stepping over once he’s fully dressed to kiss Karkat on the cheekbone.

“I love you, too.” Dave says, bumping his nose on Karkat’s cheek. “Like how you smell when you get back from work. Like chocolate and coffee beans. S’nice.”

-

That manages to pull a smile from him, and he nuzzles against Dave’s cheek before he gives him a quick kiss and steps back, not wanting to get distracted.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he says.

On the way to work all he can think about is Dave saying he wants to fuck in Karkat’s car. While on the clock, Karkat nearly snaps at his boss for interrupting a daydream about making Dave cum just from talking low in his ear and kissing his neck. He’s distracted while taking orders and messes up three times, and he goes fucking off on a customer who’s so rude to a coworker that she starts crying. He’s not reprimanded, at least, because the boss thought the customer was a prick, too.

He’s in a foul mood on the way back to Dave’s apartment. He stops at a gas station to buy himself time to calm down, because he feels like an asshole, making Dave deal with his shitty moodswings every time he comes home from work. He buys Dave a king sized kitkat bar, as a preemptive apology, and because Dave is always calling him Kitkat and Big Kat.

He unlocks the door to the apartment and is surprised to be greeted by the smell of food. And it smells good. Did John suddenly discover the magic of Karkat’s spice cabinet? Is Karkat in the wrong apartment?

“Hello?”

-

Dave sees Karkat out, and as soon as the door clicks Dave is scrambling down the hall to John’s room and knocking frantically on the door.

“JohnJohnJohnJohnJohnJohnJohnJohnJohnJohn—“

The door opens a crack. A single cold, blue eye narrowed into a slit peers through the small opening.

“What do you want, you ravenous horndog?”

“I need you to help me cook dinner.”

John opens the door fully, and gives Dave a curious but still mildly irritated look.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re my bestest bro in the whole wide world and you love me.”

“A love which has been thoroughly tested as of late.”

“Look, man, I’m sorry, alright?” Dave says with a sigh. “I can’t exactly say I’m gonna, uh...stop fucking my boyfriend. Because I’m a grown-ass adult and I pay half the rent so, y’know...”

Dave scratches at his neck. John folds his arms and raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“But I will admit I’ve been getting just a little...like a tad carried away,” Dave says.

“A tad,” John says flatly.

“You live here, too. You were here first, in fact. Before Karkat. And you were also my best bro before anyone else, so...I’m sorry I’ve been a chode lately.” Dave goes on, “So if you wanna lay down some firm ground rules, I’ll make sure I stick by them. For real.”

John sighs, and his expression softens for the first time all day. “You’re not a chode,” he says.

Then, he pauses. And a smile brightens up his face as he scoffs out a laugh, and Dave feels a swell of relief flood through him.

“Okay, well, you are a chode...a lovesick chode,” John reiterates. He offers Dave a warm smile. “You really love him, huh? I’ve never seen you like this before. He’s really softened you up. In a good way. Honest.”

Dave laughs softly. “Hah...yeah. I do. A lot. And he did. I know.”

The two boys are quiet for a time, the sentimental moment starting to hang a little too heavy in the air for either of their liking.

“Okay, enough of that,” John says quickly, stepping out.

“Yeah, god, agreed,” Dave says, nodding, stepping back as John comes out into the hallway and they head towards the kitchen.

“So, what did you need my help with?” John asks.

Dave smiles. “Well, first I’m’a need all your wonderful extra hands to help me carry home some groceries.”

They walk to the nearby grocery store. It’s a quick trip, the apartment is already well stocked, but Dave had something specific in mind for dinner. He buys a bag of potatoes and several packages of steaks, and some mushrooms.

They bring the groceries home and head straight into the kitchen to start cooking. Dave boils potatoes while John works on sautéing mushrooms and onions and garlic in a pan.

Dave makes up some garlic butter and mashes up the potatoes by hand, skin and all, and adds the garlic butter into the mash. John fries up the steaks in the same pan as he did the sautées, and Dave makes sure he leaves Karkat’s steak for last so he doesn’t fuck it up.

John rolls his eyes as Dave stands over his shoulder, watching the steak cook carefully.

“Okay, Gordon Ramsey, back the fuck up,” John says, “I don’t exactly pan-fry steaks often. It isn’t going to be perfect.”

“I will go back to the store and buy another package of steaks if you fuck this up, Egbert.”

Under Dave’s supervision, John manages to cook three steaks, all cooked to each of their specific tastes. Dave is frying asparagus up in a pan when Karkat comes in and calls out, sounding confused.

John waves a soapy hand in greeting as Karkat enters the kitchen, then dries off his hands with a cloth before he snags his plate and hurries out of the kitchen with a grin. He isn’t a fan of asparagus, anyway, so he’ll give the couple some privacy.

Karkat comes up to the stove as Dave takes the pan off the heat and dumps the asparagus onto the two other plates on the counter.

“Welcome home, baby,” Dave says in greeting, dumping the pan in the sink and then dipping in to press a kiss to Karkat’s lips.

He points to the plate on the left. “That one is yours.”

-

Karkat stares at the plate, bewildered.

“You made me dinner?” he asks. “You made me _steak_?”

Holy shit. Karkat loves steak. It’s his favorite food, and it isn’t something he gets to eat often, considering he’s kind of broke as fuck. 

His shitty day at work is completely forgotten as he turns his eyes to Dave, who is blushing and smiling at him warmly. The kitkat bar in Karkat’s hand feels stupid, now.

No one’s ever cooked him dinner before, besides his dad and Kankri. He and his friends get takeout when they hang out, and Sollux could burn a kitchen down just by looking at it funny. 

He pulls Dave in for a tight hug, kissing the side of his head and burying his face in Dave’s neck.

“Thank you, baby,” Karkat says roughly. He pulls back, grinning, and grabs both of their plates, taking them into the living room. “It smells fucking amazing, sweetheart.”

It tastes fucking amazing, too. Dave managed to cook it just right, and Karkat had only briefly mentioned how he preferred his steak fucking _weeks_ ago. He hadn’t even known if Dave was paying attention. 

And god, Dave seasoned it and made _sides_ , too. He made _vegetables_. Karkat can’t help but moan appreciatively as he eats and he’s not even fucking embarrassed about it.

“Holy shit, Dave,” he says, which about sums up his feelings. He looks at his boyfriend, lovestruck.

-

“I can’t take all the credit,” Dave admits, “It was John who actually cooked the steaks.”

“Yeah, while you watched me like a hawk and micromanaged my every move,” John quips, popping a forkful of mashed potato into his mouth.

“And you did a wonderful job, Johnny-boy, and I could not be more proud.”

They all eat their dinner quickly and without much conversation. It’s too good not to scarf down. Afterwards they bring their plates back into the kitchen and Dave spots the large Kitkat bar on the counter and grins.

“And you brought home dessert,” Dave says, grabbing the candy bar, “Fuck yeah, my man comes through.”

He pokes Karkat in the chest with the end of the bar. “Crack it open, babes, we can split it.”

-

Karkat feels himself flush, embarrassed that all he did was bring home a fucking kitkat bar when Dave (and John) cooked him his favorite meal. He pulls the candy bar out of Dave’s hand and sets it back on the counter, feeling wholly inadequate.

“Ignore that,” he mutters. “I’ll make you an actual dessert.”

He thinks they have the ingredients for brownies. Karkat’s kind of bone tired from a rollercoaster of a day, but he can suck it up and make thank-you brownies for his wonderful boyfriend.

-

Karkat plucks the Kitkat bar from Dave’s hand and Dave blinks in surprise.

Maybe under normal circumstances Dave would be happy to have Karkat make him some dessert. But he doesn’t want Karkat working any more. That was the whole point of this dinner was that Karkat would get a break for a change.

“No, fuck you—first of all, don’t steal my thunder, second of all, I’m trying to give you a break from cooking.”

Dave snatches the Kitkat bar up the counter and pushes it into Karkat’s hands.

“So have a fucking Kitkat, Kitkat.”

Dave stands back and puts on his best determined face, of at least what he thinks would be one. With the shades on all one could really see is his pouting lips and furrowed brow.

-

Karkat stares down at the candybar in his hand, surprised. Dave wanted him to take a break from cooking? ...why?

He looks up at Dave’s pouting face, eyebrows drawing together.

“I thought you liked my cooking,” he says.

-

“I fucking love your cooking and I am very much looking forward to eating it for the rest of my life,” Dave says.

His heart jumps a bit at the gravity that particular statement held, but he forges on.

“So I think you can put your feet up and chill for just one night. For me.”

-

 _The rest of my life_. Karkat feels blood rush to his face. God, Dave already has him wrapped around his little finger, but if there’s ever something he wants all he needs to do is say _that_.

“Okay,” he says. He’s still not sure why Dave wants him to take a break. They’ve been going at it pretty intensely these past few days, but maybe he wants to try something new tonight? 

He opens the kitkat bar and splits it, passing half of it to Dave. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as dinner did, but Karkat also isn’t fond of overly sweet things.

Karkat frowns as he chews, glancing at Dave. They had a whole fucking talk about this, before. It shouldn’t be so nerve wracking to say, “I’m, uh. Kind of tired. Can we just cuddle tonight?”

-

Karkat finally gives in, opening up the chocolate bar. He hands half of it to Dave, who accepts it with a smile, watching curiously through his own bite as Karkat looks at him contemplatively.

Karkat asks if it’s okay to just cuddle that evening, and Dave nods as he swallows his bite. “Yeah, man, that’s cool. Like I said, I want you to take it easy tonight, take a load off. We can just cozy up on the couch and put something dumb on Netflix, yeah?”

Dave leads the way out of the kitchen and he and Karkat sit on the couch as they finish off their halves of the Kitkat bar. Dave scooches closer and tucks himself into Karkat’s side with a content little sigh.

“Chocolate and coffee beans,” he says, “with a little Kitkat mixed in. The candy bar and the classic Karkat Musk, of course.”

He turns and kisses Karkat’s shoulder, breathing in the scent that’s worked its way into the fibres of Karkat’s shirt. “How was work?”

-

Dave doesn’t seem at all disappointed. It doesn’t sound like he even wanted to do anything specific tonight, which leaves Karkat with his original confusion. But he decides not to question it, following Dave to the living room and wrapping an arm around him as he cuddles close.

“Fucking terrible, as usual,” he says, but he’s too full and warm to bother being pissed about it all over again. “Though your surprise dinner made it worth it.”

He wonders if he can wheedle Dave into a head massage. Not that Dave has ever said no to giving him one, but he _did_ make dinner. Karkat shouldn’t be so greedy.

-

“Sorry to hear. People suck,” Dave comments, nuzzling in closer. “Lemme throw a movie or somethin’ on.”

Dave disentangles himself from Karkat to quickly set up Netflix and throw on a movie. Then he scooches back over to Karkat again.

“Hey,” Dave says, pulling a cushion down onto the floor in front of the couch, in front of Dave’s feet. “C’mere and sit. I’ll give you a massage.”

He was gonna pamper Karkat tonight. Make sure he got to relax and not have to lift a finger to do a thing.

Karkat was always protecting Dave, but nobody was ever protecting Karkat. Dave wanted to be that for him.

-

Dave puts on a movie--a _romcom_ , he willingly chose a romcom, went to the specific category and everything--and offers Karkat a massage. Karkat isn’t sure what he did to deserve all of this, but he eagerly plots his ass onto the cushion Dave sets down.

“Are you trying to butter me up to ask for something?” Karkat asks as Dave sinks his fingers into his hair. His eyes slip shut. He doesn’t want to ruin this, but he’d feel guilty if Dave felt like he had to do this when Karkat would freely give him anything. “You don’t have to do all this, babe. I told you I’d do anything for you.”

-

“I know you would,” Dave says, starting to rub at the back of Karkat’s neck.

“But for tonight, I don’t want you doing anything. You deserve a break.” Dave leans down and pecks the top of Karkat’s hair, “so the only thing I’ll ask of you is to just enjoy it, and let me do this for you.”

-

The anxiety that Karkat didn’t even notice starts to drift away. Dave isn’t trying to bribe him with kindness for something; Karkat isn’t reaping the rewards of passing a test he didn’t know was happening. Dave is just… being nice. Taking care of him.

Weird.

“You’re too good to me, baby,” Karkat breathes, keeping his eyes shut and enjoying the feeling of Dave’s firm touch on the back of his neck. Too much pressure to really turn him on, just working out the tension there and driving out the headache built up behind his eyes.

He listens as the movie plays, setting the scene for the protagonist. He might actually be interested if Dave’s fingers weren’t making him melt into a useless puddle right now.

-

Karkat says Dave is too good to him, but all Dave is doing is giving his boyfriend a massage after a long day of work. And finally cooking dinner after weeks of Karkat cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even leaving prepped meals in the fridge for Dave to eat when he can’t be there.

Karkat does so much for Dave. And asks for nothing in return. And even when he does ask for things (like if they can just cuddle) it’s with an air of trepidation, as though Karkat thinks Dave is going to one day morph into one of his asshole exes and refuse him.

Obviously it was going to take some time for it to sink in. Karkat didn’t know that this was how he deserved to be treated. That Dave always wished he was doing more, that he could give Karkat the world.

Dave had all the time in the world. However long it took.

“That so?” Dave says, “Because I can be nicer. This ain’t even my final form, baby. I haven’t taken my training weights off yet. Once I do that I’m gonna be the Ultimate Boyfriend, just you wait.”

-

Karkat snorts, leaning his head back to peer up at Dave with a crooked smile.

"Oh yeah? Maybe leave the training weights on for awhile still. I don't wanna be outclassed," he jokes.

He can't imagine what Dave being nicer would look like. Dave already treats him so well. He calms Karkat down from his bitchy moods and helps him sleep and talks him through his nightmares and makes him coffee every morning. He doesn't mind that Karkat hangs all over him or insists on carrying him around when he's perfectly capable of walking, and only sometimes complains when Karkat puts on another fucking romcom. Dave's already the Ultimate Boyfriend and he doesn't even have to try.

-

Dave scoffs at Karkat’s comment, leaning down to dig his elbow into some knots on Karkat’s shoulder.

“As soon as this cast comes off you are done for, my guy. Gonna sweep you off your motherfuckin’ feet. And also the sex is gonna get exponentially better.”

-

Karkat groans as Dave works his elbow into his shoulder. It hurts, but in a good way. Karkat’s sure he has years of tension built up in his muscles.

“The sex is already fucking great,” he says. Or at least he thinks so. “Do you have a plan to ‘sweep me off my feet’ or are you just talking yourself up?”

As far as Karkat is concerned, Dave sweeps him off his feet every damn day. He’s curious, though.

-

Dave grins. Karkat's enthusiasm about their love life was apparent, but hearing Karkat specifically voice his opinion that the sex was good was certainly an ego boost. Still bangin' even as a one-armed man. Hell yeah.

"I have a plan," Dave says, "But it's a surprise. I can't just throw down all my secrets right out the gate, y'know."

-

The idea that Dave is actually planning a surprise for him makes Karkat grin. Generally he hates surprises; he doesn’t like being caught off guard, doesn’t like his plans being knocked off kilter. But Dave cooking dinner tonight was a surprise, and that was good. Dave surprises him with love and affection constantly, and maybe one day Karkat will get used to it, but for now he lets it fill him with a pleasant, unusual eagerness.

“It better be good,” Karkat teases. “You’re getting my hopes up. Do I get a hint?”

-

“Nope,” Dave says, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure it doesn’t throw a monkey wrench into your routine. I ain’t just gonna spring it on you at random, or whatever. Just because it’s a surprise doesn’t mean that it’s gonna come outta nowhere.”

-

Karkat pouts, but any disappointment that Dave won’t give him a hint is drowned out by the fact that Dave is taking into account his stupid anal retentiveness about his routines. Karkat didn’t even have to say anything, Dave just knew, and that makes him want to hide his face in his hands.

Dave’s arm is probably getting tired by now, so Karkat gets up to join him on the couch again, tugging a laughing Dave into a reclined position and laying with his face pressed against Dave’s chest, a sappy smile on his face.

“Love you, baby,” he says. He could probably fall asleep here, like this, breathing Dave in with the sound of a movie playing in the background, his shoulders throbbing slightly from the massage. “Thanks for cooking dinner.”

There are a thousand other things he wants to thank Dave for, too, but he lets himself fall silent, eyes focusing on the film as the protagonist accidentally dumps a plate of food on someone.

-

“Love you, too. And you’re welcome,” Dave says, pecking the top of Karkat’s head and then nuzzling his nose into Karkat’s hair. “It was actually pretty fun. And I was able to talk with John about stuff.”

Dave runs his hand up and down Karkat’s back. “I know you don’t give a shit about what John thinks, but...he does live here. And like how roommates have rules about takin’ turns doing chores or making sure you don’t leave your dirty socks lying around, they usually have rules about fucking, too. Like leaving a sock on the door so you know not when to disturb. Anyway, he laid down some ground rules. He knows it’s no use telling us where not to mess around...we’d already christened the entire place so it’s not like it really matters. So his only rule was to keep it down when John’s got a morning class or an early shift at work.”

-

“That’s fair,” Karkat mumbles into Dave’s shirt. John is kind of an oblivious asshole and they fell pretty easily into antagonizing each other, but Karkat maybe feels a tad bit guilty, having knowingly kept him up until the early hours of the morning.

“I should probably actually apologize,” he says, since bringing home his dad’s food doesn’t really feel like enough. He’s not sure if it would be worse if John brushed his apology off or rubbed his face in it. Either way will be humiliating, but Karkat doesn’t want John to actively hate him. He’s obnoxious as shit and if he slips a fucking whoopie cushion under Karkat at the last second one more time Karkat _will_ commit a murder, but he’s still Dave’s best friend and not an entirely bad guy.

-

“You can if you want to, but he was honestly pretty cool about the whole thing.” Dave says, “But, that’s John for you. Water off a duck’s back all the time, with that guy.”

He’s glad Karkat is being agreeable to John’s conditions. He seems a little pouty, but moreso his remorse does seem to be genuine. Karkat actually trying to apologize to John about fucking John’s roomie and BFF was kind of fucking hilarious. If there’s any conversation Dave wishes he could be a fly on the wall for, it would be that.

-

Karkat glances up at Dave and sees amusement splashed over his face. He doesn’t even bother to hide it, raising his eyebrows and grinning as Karkat meets his gaze. 

“Stop laughing at me, asshole,” Karkat grumbles, tucking his head back against Dave’s chest. Whatever interaction he has with John can happen tomorrow. Or fucking never, hopefully. “I’ll kill you.”

Threats are much better delivered when he’s not laying on top of the person he’s trying to threaten like a touch starved weighted blanket, but Karkat is too comfortable to move. 

-

Dave snorts. Pretty empty threat coming from a big softie like Karkat. That mushy interior wasn’t even all that deep down, either. It was right beneath the shell, plain as day. Like cracking open a crab leg and seeing all the soft meat inside.

“Ch’yeah right,” Dave says with an amused smirk, “You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Dave squeezes his arm snugly around Karkat’s middle and buries his nose into Karkat’s soft curls.

“My man’s too much of a big ole snuggle bug for that,” Dave coos, “Eh, Big Kat? My widdle cuddly teddy bear.”

The baby voice should definitely get on Karkat’s nerves, but that was the point. It was fun getting Karkat all riled up, after all.

-

Karkat scowls, wrinkling his nose at the tone. Dave sounds like Nepeta when she’s being extra cutesy, trying to convince him that he’s a softie instead of a jackass. He doesn’t know how the fuck she got that idea.

“Ugh,” he scoffs. “I’ll take apologizing to John over this.”

He moves like he’s about to get up and push away, bracing his hands beneath him.

-

“Awww, don’t be like that, Big Kat,” Dave whines playfully, bringing up his legs and wrapping them around Karkat’s waist. He locks his ankles and pushes down, keeping Karkat in place.

“Sugarbear, lover, honey bunch, my sweet li’l cinnamon bun, light of my life, Karkles, Kitkat, crabcakes...” Dave just keeps rattling off any and all ridiculous pet names he can think of as he wraps his arm around Karkat’s neck and pulls him down further, kissing over his cheeks. “Sugartits, Karkalicious, my big handsome man...”

-

“Oh, jesus christ,” Karkat says, face growing hotter and hotter as Dave keeps listing off the most inane bullshit nicknames he’s ever had the misfortune of hearing. He doesn’t seem to run out of them at all, not even letting the press of his lips against Karkat’s red cheeks halt their progression.

Karkat collapses his weight down onto Dave, getting a surprised _oof_ in return. 

“If I stay here will you fucking stop that?” he asks, shoulders shaking with the effort of not laughing even as embarrassment burns through him.

-

“Sure, cream puff, absolutely.” Dave says with a cheeky grin, burying his nose into Karkat’s neck and breathing in his scent.

Mmmm. Chocolate and coffee beans and Karkat.

-

“‘Cream puff,’” Karkat repeats disbelievingly under his breath as goosebumps crawl across his skin at the feeling of Dave nosing at his neck. Only Dave would fucking look at him and call him _cream puff_. It’s honestly alarming, the shit Karkat lets him get away with.

He kisses Dave’s hair and says. “You’re fucking crazy. I love you, you braindead moron.”

Having Karkat crushing him like this for so long can’t possibly be comfortable, so he tries to pull back to adjust but Dave’s legs and arm tighten around him.

“Let me go, idiot,” he laughs. “I’m just getting us more comfortable.”

-

"I'm plenty comfortable," Dave says simply, "You're like my big weighted blanket."

Dave pulls Karkat back down with his legs, a big cheesy grin on his face.

"Now quit squirmin' around, you flighty little muskrat," Dave says, "C'mere."

He leans up to kiss Karkat on the lips, swallowing down any protests his boyfriend may have had on the matter.

-

Well, if Dave’s not in any amount of discomfort…

Karkat lets himself go lax again, melting into his boyfriend’s mouth with a pleased sigh. Dave’s lips are soft and warm, his tongue a velvety slide. He gives up any attempt to move, content to let Dave manhandle him however he wants. 

“Love you,” he repeats. He’ll never get sick of saying it, or hearing it in return. “You’re my favorite fucking person, Dave.”

-

Dave grins big and sappy at that. “B’awww. You’re my favourite person, too.”

Dave presses several quick kisses to Karkat’s mouth in succession, smiling through each one.

“Wouldn’t even need any words on my arm for that.” Dave says, “Think you’d be my favourite person whether you were my soulmate or not.”

-

Karkat smiles into Dave’s kisses, quick chaste little things that make him feel loved and wanted. There’s a swell of joy ballooning in his chest and he kisses a freckle near Dave’s jaw, one close to the corner of his mouth. Dave is constantly waylaying his fears about having an unrequited soulmark like this, telling him it doesn’t matter and that he’ll love Karkat anyway.

“Dunno what the fuck I did to deserve you,” Karkat says. “You’re incredible. I like your freckles.”

Those are three unrelated thoughts, but whatever. Dave rambles incoherently at him all the fucking time, he can deal with it.

-

A surprised little laugh bursts out of Dave, louder than his usual soft chuckles and wheezing out of him a bit, what with Karkat’s weight on him.

“Thanks,” Dave says lightly. “I like the little flecks of red in your eyes. Like cherry cola.”

-

He has little flecks of red in his eyes? When Karkat looks in the mirror all he sees is a dark, muddy brown. Admittedly his eyes are probably the least offensive thing about him, but they’re nothing striking, not like Dave’s. Or any of Dave’s friends’, really. What was up with all of them having pretty eyes? So fucking unfair.

“My eyes are boring as shit,” Karkat says. “I think you’re imagining things.”

He kisses Dave again, reaching up to rub his thumb over Dave’s cheekbone.

“Your eyes are gorgeous,” he says. “You already know I love them but it bears repeating. I like your hands, too.”

A weird part to fixate on, maybe, but Dave has long, slim fingers. They look delicate until you turn them over and see the callouses built up there. Karkat loves how they feel against his skin, in his hair. He likes the way Dave holds his pencils as he tries to draw one-handed.

-

Dave smirks, quirking up an eyebrow. “You like my hands, huh?”

Dave runs his hand down Karkat’s back and gives his butt a small squeeze, smirking pulling wider as he watches Karkat’s cheeks fill with colour.

“Just wait ‘till I got use of both of ‘em again,” Dave says.

He gives Karkat’s butt another pat.

“I like your butt,” Dave says, “And how easy it is to make your cheeks red.”

-

Karkat blushes when Dave squeezes his ass, and blushes harder when Dave calls him out on it. He scowls, embarrassed.

“You’re such a dick,” he complains, ducking down to hide his face in Dave’s chest so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of seeing Karkat’s red face. “I take it all back. I can’t fucking stand you.”

-

Dave chuckles at Karkat’s pouty-ness, kissing Karkat’s temple. “But I’m _your_ dick.”

Dave pauses in his kisses, and pulls back. “Okay, poor choice of words.”

Dave wiggles his eyebrows. “Speaking of which. I like your dick, too.”

-

Karkat’s face is beet red. He refuses to look up.

“That’s it, you’re officially fucking demoted,” he grumbles. “John is now my favorite person. Do you see what you’ve done?”

He takes a deep breath and yells, “EGBERT! YOU’RE OFFICIALLY LOWER ON MY SHITLIST THAN DAVE! COME SAVE ME AND I’LL COOK YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT.”

The response is almost immediate. Distant laughter followed by John’s voice calling, “You chose this! You did this to yourself!”

Karkat scowls. “Nevermind. Egbert can get fucked. Who was the one who kept flirting with me? Jade? She’s my new favorite person. Watch out, Strider.”

-

Dave snickers when Karkat calls out for John and John calls back, but his expression drops to one of true fear when Karkat mentions Jade.

“Baby, please, no. Please don’t encourage her. She has no shame.” Dave’s eyes are wide and pleading. The eyes of a man who has seen far too much and means exactly what he says.

“She wanted to climb you like a fucking tree, don’t give her any kind of semblance of a chance or she will take it, whether you’re my soulmate or not.”

-

Karkat’s first instinct is to be a bastard, of course. _I’m sorry, Dave, you just don’t understand the bond that Jade and I share._ But there’s an undercurrent of anxiety in Dave’s tone, and Karkat finally looks up, eyes soft, and kisses him on the cheek. He’s been accused of cheating before, despite having never done so or even thought about it, and he doesn’t want to make Dave think he’ll ever be anything but faithful.

“You don’t have to worry, baby,” he says. “I only have eyes for you.”

Dave will probably laugh off his saccharine bullshit, but hopefully it will dispel any fears he may have. Karkat shouldn’t have joked about it in the first place.

\- 

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Dave says, though he does let out a little relieved sigh.

He loved Jade to death but good lord was she a fucking flirt.

“She sorta had a really big crush on me when we were younger,” Dave admits, “And I mean, I liked her and all, but not—like that. I was—“

Dave clamps his mouth shut and goes red himself, and it makes his freckles go even darker. He was just about to let it slip that he’d had a huge crush on John, and that would literally be the most awkward thing ever.

“—closeted as fuck,” Dave says instead, “So, yeah. Anyway, I’m sure if you gave her the slightest morsel of attention she’d try and get us all in a fucking threesome or some shit and that is just...so not happening.”

Dave looks away, feeling his cheeks getting even hotter. “I ain’t sharing.”

-

Karkat feels warmth spread through him as he smiles. Dave doesn’t really have a possessive streak like Karkat does, which is kind of nice but it’s _also_ nice to feel wanted. And Dave isn’t worried about him cheating which is… odd, but good. Karkat doesn’t think he’s ever been in a relationship where he wasn’t accused of chasing after someone else, where he didn’t have to drop everything to assure them that he loved them and prove he’d never do that.

“I don’t know that a threesome would ever work out,” he says, nosing at Dave’s red cheek. “I’d be too focused on you. And you know how possessive I am; I don’t want anyone touching you but me.”

He can’t blame Jade for having a crush on Dave. Who wouldn’t, honestly? But it does make him want to darken those marks on Dave’s neck again, just to be extra obvious how taken Dave is. 

-

_I don’t want anyone touching you but me._

Hoo, boy. He knew Karkat had a thing for possession. Why else would he enjoy marking Dave up so much if not for the fact to gloat that Dave was _his_. The idea of Karkat seeing Dave as something to be proud to show off, something he wanted to curl around and protect and fucking growl at anyone who tried to come near...

It was fucking _hot_.

Dave feels a warm tingle run through his nerves and a little shiver crawls up his spine, and he stares up at Karkat, cheeks still flushed and eyes wide. For some reason the idea of Karkat being the possessive and jealous type isn’t an issue; Dave knows it would never be directed towards him. They trusted each other.

“I’d be the same way,” Dave says, “Worst threesome ever, we’d just leave that poor sap in the corner to watch while we get all caught up in each other.”

Dave waves his hand dismissively. “I did a threeway once, it was fun at the time but when you don’t really give a fuck about either of the other two it’s easy not to play favourites. With you it’d be _much_ different.”

-

Karkat gets a wonderful close up of the way Dave’s pupils dilate, the way his cheeks grow pink and his breath gets just slightly quicker. It’s intoxicating, seeing the effect his words have on Dave. Dave _likes_ that he’s possessive, he doesn’t see it as overbearing or smothering. It isn’t a problem.

It does have a frown pulling onto his face at the idea of Dave with someone else. Obviously he doesn’t begrudge Dave his past, but he also doesn’t want to imagine Dave sleeping with anyone besides him, let alone _two_ someones at once.

“No threesomes then,” Karkat says. “Glad that’s been established.”

He goes back to dropping mindless kisses to each one of Dave’s freckles.

“I can’t imagine what you’d be like if you were jealous,” he says. “Are you even capable of that?”

-

“I’ve never been in a relationship before you, so there wasn’t really much to get jealous about.” Dave says, giving a little shrug.

Was what he’d felt with Jade the other night jealousy? He had certainly felt flustered, and wary. Dave had honestly been concerned that Jade would try to sit in their laps that night. It had been pretty hard to focus on the movie.

“I was actually kind of glad when you knocked Jade off the armrest, even though it was just an accident,” Dave admits, “I had been plotting to pull something similar and more intentional. Was getting pretty tired of the puppy dog eyes she kept makin’ at you.”

Dave looks away again and huffs a little, embarrassed. There was no need to be jealous of Jade, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Even if Jade did get too forward, he was sure Karkat would let her down easy.

And yet, the thought of Jade touching Karkat makes him...tense? He’s not really sure what this feeling is.

-

Karkat blinks up at Dave, surprised. He’d been _jealous_ of Jade? That’s a little funny and a lot flattering. He smiles at Dave’s embarrassed expression.

“I thought she would kill me for that,” Karkat admits. He doesn’t really recall Jade making puppy dog eyes at him. He was too wound up, too anxious to really focus, and once he calmed down his attention was mostly on Dave and the movie. “Don’t worry, baby, it’ll take a lot more than puppy eyes to get me away from you.”

He reaches up, running a hand through Dave’s hair. 

“You’re cute,” he says simply. Dave is much more than cute, but that will suffice for now.

-

Dave pouts. Of course when Karkat is jealous and possessive it’s hot, but when Dave does it he’s cute.

It’s not even cute, it’s just dumb. There’s no need for him to feel like that about Jade, after all.

“Nuh-uh.” Dave mumbles.

Wow. Great argument, dumbass.

-

Pouting Dave is fucking adorable, and Karkat grins.

“Yuh-huh,” he says. “You’re the cutest person I’ve ever seen. And the hottest, the most handsome, the prettiest.”

He brushes their cheeks together and blinks his eyes a few times, tickling Dave’s skin with butterfly kisses.

“I like that you were jealous,” he admits. “You don’t have to be, because I’m batshit crazy in love with you, but. I like it.”

-

Dave continues blushing as Karkat continues praising him. He swallows when Karkat calls him pretty, his face absolutely on fire.

“Likewise,” Dave says softly, “you pull it off way better than me, though. Think it’s...it’s hot. That you wanna keep me in your pocket, all to yourself.”

He’s used to being discarded. Like an old toy that’s novelty has worn off.

It’s nice to have someone who will let him stick around for a change. Who doesn’t want to share him.

-

Karkat loves how Dave’s blush travels down his face, lighting up his neck and disappearing under his shirt. He starts kissing down, and down, until he reaches the collar of Dave’s shirt. He kisses the fabric, too, and the top button.

“You like being all mine, baby?” he asks, voice low. “That’s good, because I don’t like sharing either.”

He reaches up to pop the top button of Dave’s shirt, moving the fabric aside to kiss and mouth at his collarbone. 

Dave thinks it’s _hot_ that he’s possessive. That’s mind-blowing to him, but he can definitely work with that.

“You’re in good hands, sweetheart,” he tells Dave. “I take care of my things.”

-

Karkat’s voice takes on the low, husky tone that Dave finds incredibly sexy and also means that Karkat is getting in the Mood. Which Dave is absolutely okay with, but Karkat also said he just wanted to cuddle tonight. Which Dave is also absolutely okay with, but either way Karkat kind of has to pick which Mood he’s in otherwise he was gonna rile Dave right up.

Unless Karkat was okay with not going all the way? They could just suck each other off, or whatever. Dave figures the best course of action is to probably just ask.

“Baby,” Dave sighs softly, watching with blown-wide pupils as Karkat kisses at his collarbone, “you keep this up and I’m gonna want to do more than cuddle.”

He reaches up and tucks a curl behind Karkat’s ear, smiling when Karkat looks up to meet his gaze.

“Unless you changed your mind about that?” Dave asks.

-

Karkat freezes with his lips on Dave’s collarbone and looks up. He’s probably sending wildly mixed signals, right now, isn’t he? But Dave doesn’t seem annoyed; he brushes Karkat’s hair aside and smiles softly at him.

He drops his head down, forehead against Dave’s chest, and sighs.

“Sorry, baby,” he mumbles. He really is fucking exhausted. Dave in and of himself is a turn on, and it’s easy to get distracted by that. But Karkat feels like sleep is waiting for him, and sex with Dave is rarely quick; the couch earlier had been something of an anomaly. Karkat likes to take his time taking Dave apart, and likes it when Dave does the same.

“I’ll knock it off,” Karkat says, letting his eyes fall shut as he feels Dave’s hand in his hair. He barely feels any anxiety at all, knowing Dave will be fine with it either way.

-

Karkat stops his kisses, and Dave chuckles a little as he rubs his hand up and down Karkat’s back when Karkat drops his head onto Dave’s chest and sighs dramatically.

“S’all good, babe,” Dave says, running his hand up Karkat’s back and into his hair.

“You wanna keep lying here for a bit? Or wanna go and get some shut eye?”

-

Karkat lets out another huge sigh. He’s comfortable. He doesn’t want to move. But he also doesn’t want to trap Dave under him for however long he manages to sleep; and he _knows_ Dave wouldn’t wake him up if he needed something. 

“I think I’ll head to bed,” he says, nuzzling his face against Dave’s chest. “Are you gonna stay up for awhile?”

Dave cuddles up to Karkat and plays with his hair, helping him drift off to sleep, pretty much every night without fail. It doesn’t work, sometimes, and Karkat sneaks out of bed after Dave’s passed out to grumpily waste time during the night. But he does kind of feel like an ass, dictating Dave’s schedule when he doesn’t even seem tired.

-

"Nah, I'll come to bed with you." Dave says.

Miss out on the chance to cuddle up to Karkat and pet his hair and have it result in Karkat actually falling asleep, and not slipping out of bed after Dave passes out? Hell no.

Dave isn't particularly tired at the moment, but he doesn't mind calling it an early night, especially if it means cozying up to Karkat as much as he wants.

-

Karkat doesn’t move until he can reign in his smile enough to look up and press a kiss under Dave’s jaw. Standing up takes a massive effort and he stretches, cracking his back and raising an eyebrow when he catches Dave staring at him. He grabs Dave by the hand and starts leading him down the hall, then tells him to go ahead after he glances at John’s bedroom door.

When Dave clicks his own door shut, Karkat knocks. John answers, headphones in place, looking surprised. Karkat scowls and shuffles his feet.

“Hey Karkat,” John says. “What’s up?”

“Sorry for being such a dick lately,” he says, cheeks flaring. John stares at him for a moment, then bursts into laughter. Karkat’s scowl draws harsh lines in his face and John claps him on the shoulder with a bright smile.

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I’m glad you’re happy. Just try to keep it down, okay?” he grins.

Karkat nods sharply, and that’s that. Humiliation over. 

He goes to the bedroom and changes into his pajamas, crawling into bed to wrap himself around Dave and close his eyes. 


	14. Chapter 14

Karkat eventually decides to get up, stretching with a long groan as something in his back pops. Dave watches unabashedly as Karkat's shirt rides up a little when he stretches, giving a little peek of his belly. Karkat gives him a look when he catches Dave staring, but Dave just smiles back at him.

Then he's being led back to their bedroom by the hand and--

Oh. He just called it _their_ bedroom. Mentally, but whatever. Still kind of a big deal. Karkat tells Dave to go on ahead, and Dave goes without question, taking the time to change out of his clothes and into a pair of pj bottoms and crawl into bed.

Dave hears John laugh loudly and smiles to himself. Guess Karkat decided to go through with that apology. He can just see the scowl on Karkat's face as John laughs at him, and his smile gets wider.

It's nice that his two favourite dudes in the whole world can get along. Even though they fuck with each other all the time, and act like they can't stand one another, Dave can tell John really likes having Karkat around. And even Karkat is always doing little things to show his budding friendship to John. Like little moments like this.

Then Karkat's back in the bedroom and changing for bed, Dave watching with a small contented smile and half-lidded, affectionate gaze as he watches his boyfriend strip down and pull on pyjama pants and a t-shirt (aw, no shirtless Kat tonight).

Karkat wraps his arms around Dave automatically as he gets into bed, and Dave smiles and huffs a little laugh as Karkat tucks himself right up against Dave and closes his eyes like Dave is the world's comfiest body pillow.

-

“What’re you laughing at?” Karkat demands grumpily, still a bit miffed about John laughing in his face. It’s quickly disappearing, however, once more replaced with contentment thanks to his perfect boyfriend.

His perfect boyfriend who has yet to start playing with his hair. He pouts, moving to bump the top of his head gently at Dave’s chin. He’s feeling particularly clingy and needy tonight, apparently.

-

“Nothin’, baby,” Dave says.

Karkat bunts him like a fucking affectionate cat looking for attention, and Dave could fucking die from the cuteness. He wraps his arm around Karkat’s shoulder and squeezes him tight while planting a firm kiss into his hair.

“You’re just so fuckin’ adorable i was beside myself for a minute,” Dave says, “wondering how I scored a boyfriend who’s so goddamn cute.”

Dave’s fingers run up Karkat’s head from the base of his neck to the top of his head, then back down again. His thumb and index finger start to rub little circles into the thick cords on the back of Karkat’s neck.

“Luckiest son of a bitch on the planet,” Dave goes on, “getting to have such a cute boyfriend to cozy up to every night like this. Who makes me feel all special when he comes to _me_ when he wants attention.”

-

Dave starts touching his neck. His very sensitive neck, and he calls Karkat cute on top of it, making him wiggle so he can hide his face, warmth blooming in his stomach. 

“‘M not cute,” he protests weakly, already knowing it’s in vain. Dave is convinced that Karkat is _adorable_ , for some reason. Despite his nasty resting bitch face and the fact that he’s like three times Dave’s size and could snap his twink ass like a toothpick. “ _You’re_ cute.”

Dave is, in fact, The Cutest. As far as Karkat is concerned, at least, and he’s not accepting criticism. 

Now that Dave’s hand is back to rubbing tingles into his skin, Karkat feels himself growing more tired. Dave’s hands are gifts, magic woven into his fingerprints, and they pull Karkat under like nothing else ever has. Dave still thinks he should try to get back on medication for the nights Karkat can’t sleep no matter what he does, and Karkat doesn’t know how to explain just how much Dave has improved his life already just by being willing to cuddle him until he’s relaxed enough to sleep.

-

Karkat hides away and protests Dave’s compliment, which is counterproductive to his argument because it only makes him even more cute.

“Fine, we’re both cute,” Dave shrugs.

They could agree to disagree. Dave was gonna keep thinking Karkat was cute whether Karkat liked it or not.

Dave keeps running his fingers through Karkat’s hair, feeling Karkat getting more limp and relaxed against him as the minutes tick by. With Karkat’s warm body pressed against him like this, Dave is ready to pass out himself. It means he’ll be up at the crack of dawn, no doubt, but that was alright. Maybe he could make Karkat breakfast again.

He leans down and presses a little kiss to the top of Karkat’s head as his fingers continue to comb through his hair and gently knead on his scalp in areas of tension.

When he got his cast off, Karkat was gonna conk out from Dave’s head massages every night. Dave convinces himself the biggest reason he’s had mixed success so far is because he’s only got one hand to work with. Things would be different when the cast was off.

Certainly for more reasons than just that one, but that’s the one Dave focuses on, his nose and fingers still buried in Karkat’s hair.

-

Karkat is far too tired to reply, letting Dave’s fingers in his hair carry him off to sleep. 

He has nightmares: being lost in a hospital and entering a room to find Dave on the floor, limbs at odd angles and bleeding from the head. Trying to find help, only the hospital is empty, now, and Dave’s body gets heavier and heavier in his arms until he can’t move him anymore and has to leave him there. When he finally does find someone, they have security wrestle him to the ground and insist that he’s sick, carting him off to be bound to a hospital bed. 

He’s allowed a visitor, but the room shifts to look like a prison, with a wall of glass between him and his visitor, who turns out to be Dave. He’s fucking pissed, face warped with anger, because Karkat abandoned him, and he throws a punch at the glass.

Karkat startles awake before Dave’s knuckles make contact, a gasp stuck in his throat. The dream is already slipping away from him, and he blinks blearily up at his boyfriend’s relaxed, sleeping face, as his heart slows down. Karkat rubs at his eyes, sighing, and gets up to putter about the apartment for awhile.

It’s still dark outside. Karkat does the dishes, even though it’s supposed to be John’s job, now. He picks up around the living room, has a shower, chugs a glass of water, and, once he’s sure his hair won’t drip all over the sheets, crawls back in bed to curl around Dave and hopefully get a few more minutes of sleep.

-

Dave doesn’t wake when Karkat first leaves the bed but he does stir a little when Karkat crawls back under the covers.

Half-asleep, he gives a little sleepy hum and shuffles a bit as Karkat curls up next to him. He slips back into sleep shortly after. He didn’t even stop dreaming, his body moving of its own accord when it felt Karkat slip back into bed.

He dreamed about a bunch of obscure stuff his brain surely wouldn’t remember the moment he opened his eyes, but a few things stood out above the rest. The usual things he tended to recall upon waking.

Hot pavement, a bright red sky, heat. The sound of metal clashing together.

He always climbed to the highest part of the tower, trying to abscond. He always woke up just before he lost, or fell. This time, as his foot slips from the tower, he feels a hand snatch his wrist.

The hand isn’t wearing a fingerless glove. It couldn’t be Bro. So who—?

Dave is awake before he can look up to see who saved him from plummeting to his certain death, the life-like sensation of jerking to a halt as he’s grabbed enough to pull him from sleep.

Karkat is asleep beside him, Dave realizes. His heart is racing, and he feels a little breathless, like he really had been strifing on the roof.

He’s not sure what time it is, though it does look like the sun is coming up. Who cares.

Dave nestles in closer to his boyfriend’s warmth, closing his eyes even though he knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep at this point. At least he can just enjoy laying next to Karkat for a little while longer.

-

Karkat’s awoken from his doze by the feeling of Dave scooching closer to him. His breathing is heavier than it should be and he lets his eyes blink open. 

“Dave?” he says quietly. “Are you awake, baby?”

He runs a hand along Dave’s arm lightly, just in case he’s still asleep. Karkat doesn’t want to wake him.

-

“Y-yeah,” Dave says, and he curses himself for the waver in his voice.

He wraps his arm a bit tighter around Karkat, rubbing his hand up and down Karkat’s back in response to Karkat stroking his arm.

“M’awake. Sorry, did I wake you, bud?”

-

“Nah,” Karkat says, nuzzling his face against Dave’s chest. “Been up for awhile. Just laying here.”

He’s been falling in and out of sleep as the room slowly lightened, the sun rising in the sky outside. Everything feels soft and fuzzy around him, but he can’t really get back to sleep. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the smell of Dave surrounding him.

“You okay?” he asks. He presses a soft kiss to the skin right under his lips. “Bad dreams?”

-

Karkat kisses Dave on the chin, just under the lips, making Dave smile sleepily. He ducks his head down to press a quick kiss to Karkat’s lips properly.

“Yeah, kinda,” Dave mumbles, eyes still heavy, but open now to look down at Karkat, drowsy and soft.

Karkat says he’s been up for a while. Was he not able to sleep after all?

“What about you?” Dave asks, running his fingertips through Karkat’s bangs, pushing his curls out of his eyes.

Karkat’s hair is a little bit damp. He must have gotten up at some point to shower. So he’s been awake for a while.

“...I still didn’t get you outta that hospital, huh?” Dave asks quietly.

-

“More like I couldn’t get you out,” Karkat says, heaving a loud sigh. He can’t remember much, anymore, except Dave’s mangled form, too heavy to move; and later, his angry, betrayed face after Karkat let him down. 

Karkat rolls over a bit, putting more of his weight on Dave, and presses little kisses to the corners of his mouth, the tip of his nose, between his eyebrows.

“Don’t worry about me, babe,” he says quietly. 

-

The skin between Dave’s eyebrows furrows after Karkat’s lips pull away, and Dave frowns up at Karkat as Karkat looks down at him.

“I was in there with you this time?” Dave asks, voice laced deeply with concern, “I thought that I’ve always been outside, and you couldn’t get the door open.”

-

Dave is worrying about him, which is the exact opposite of what Karkat wants. He reaches up to smooth out the wrinkle in his brow with his index finger.

“That’s how it was. Dreams change,” Karkat shrugs. “I found you and you were hurt and I couldn’t get you help.”

Dave thinks his nightmares are more of a problem than they actually are, just because they happen more than Dave’s do. But they’ve been sparser than ever since he regularly started sleeping next to Dave. He only gets them a few times a week, now, instead of every night. 

“What about you?” he asks. “You wanna talk about your dream?”

-

Dave unfurrows his brow when Karkat presses a finger to his forehead, but his lip still puckers out in a pout when Karkat mentioned he found Dave hurt. Was Karkat being eaten up by guilt because he hit Dave with his car?

It was an accident. And mostly Dave’s fault. And...and it had brought them together. He didn’t have to feel bad about it.

Dave closes his eyes with a sigh.”Guess mine changed, too.” he says, “Up on the roof, strifing with my Bro, when I fell. Only instead of waking up as I fell off the building, someone grabbed me. I woke up before I saw who I was, but I’ve got a pretty good feeling it was you. The hand was really warm.”

-

Karkat smiles, a slow, lazy thing that splits his face. He presses another kiss to Dave’s cheek.

“Yeah? I’m glad I could help,” he says. “I’ll catch you every time, babe.”

He leans down to lightly bump Dave’s cheek with his own, rubbing their faces together like a cat. It’s weird and kind of stupid, but Dave seems to find it cute, so Karkat doesn’t bother trying not to do it.

He sighs, moving down to tuck his head under Dave’s chin.

“You were mad at me,” he admits. “In my dream. Because I didn’t help you.”

Karkat isn’t sure what his mind is working through, there. Dave rarely gets mad, and Karkat’s never seen his face screwed up with rage like that. More importantly, Dave would _never_ throw a punch at him. His subconscious needs to get it the fuck together.

-

Karkat bunts Dave and Dave scoffs out a soft laugh, chuckling as Karkat rubs their cheeks together like their two tomcats cuddling on a roof.

He blinks a little as Karkat pulls away with a sigh, and his eyes widen as Karkat mentions how Dave had been mad at him in his dream.

“Mad at you?” Dave echoes, even more confused now, “But...baby, that doesn’t make any sense. All you ever _do_ is help me.”

-

Karkat huffs out a small laugh at the baffled tone Dave uses. He helps Dave with some shit, he guesses, but nothing he couldn’t do himself eventually. Or get John to help with, really. Besides cooking, maybe, but Dave did really well with that steak.

“Dreams rarely make sense,” Karkat says, kissing Dave’s throat lightly. He rubs his nose against the lovebites there. “I doubt there’s some deeper meaning in it. Just my stupid brain processing stupider anxieties.”

-

Dave looks up at the ceiling, his face still pulled into a confused and concerned frown even while he rubs Karkat’s back, almost absent-mindedly.

“But, aren’t dreams supposed to tell you shit about shit?” Dave says, “Rose has told me a bunch of psychological mumbo-jumbo about it before, but I know that everything is supposed to mean something, even if it doesn’t make sense.”

Dave’s hands stroke through Karkat’s hair, petting nervously.

“Why would you dream about me being mad at you?” Dave wonders anxiously, “I don’t wanna be mad at you.”

-

Oh, fuck. Dave sounds nervous and unsure. Karkat should have kept his stupid nightmare to himself; he’s ruining their nice calm morning.

“Hey,” he says seriously, pushing himself up on his elbows to look Dave in the eyes. “It’s okay, baby. I don’t want you to be mad at me either. I just...”

He trails off, confused. Why _did_ he dream about Dave being pissed at him? Karkat makes a point not to dissect his dreams, just accepting them as they are and moving the fuck on. But if introspection will make Dave feel better then fine, time to take a good long look at his insecurities.

“We fought yesterday,” he says. “And it’s fine now, we talked it out. I’m just not used to fights being resolved so easily, I guess. I usually have to work for it. Or something. I don’t know, I’m not a psychologist.”

-

Dave looks up at Karkat as Karkat explains why he might have dreamt about what he did, and Dave nods a little, though his face still looks a bit concerned.

He supposed that made sense, but hearing Karkat say he wasn’t used to fights getting resolved like that was...well, not surprising, of course, considering his ex’s track records up until this point. But still concerning.

This was Dave’s first relationship. So the fighting was new for him, too. It would stand to reason Karkat would be confused when their fights were resolved so quickly after having multiple relationships where disagreements and shit usually led to violent and angry outbursts.

Dave had to tell Karkat outright that of _course_ he didn’t want to hit Karkat. Did Karkat still not believe that to be the case? Was Karkat worried that one of these day, if they had another fight—another big fight—that Dave would fucking try to _hit_ him?

“Karkat,” Dave says, putting aside petnames and shit for now because this was fucking Important, so Actual Name it is. Karkat looks at him, and Dave reaches up and cups his cheek. He wishes he could do it with both hands.

“I am _never_ going to hit you.” Dave says sternly, his face absolutely serious in a way he doesn’t think Karkat’s ever seen it. Dave has hardly made this expression himself, it almost feels strange to do.

“I fucking hate violence and confrontation of any kind. _Especially_ if it involves you. So I don’t care how much we drive each other crazy, how bad of a day we have...I am never, ever letting it get to that. That’s not how any of this works. I love you. So if I’m ticked off at you for whatever fuckin’ reason I’ll just fucking tell you about why I am and then we’ll work it out like we’ve done up until now.”

Dave runs his thumb back and forth over Karkat’s cheek. A cheek Dave is certain has been no doubt slapped in bouts of high emotion and anger. A cheek Dave would only touch just as he’s doing so now.

“You’re safe with me.”

-

Dave cups his face gently, like he’s made of the frailest porcelain, his expression harsher than Karkat’s ever seen it. It makes his stomach clench anxiously until Dave starts talking, and then he melts, leaning his head more firmly into his boyfriend’s hand, eyes a little misty.

“I know,” he says. 

He does know. Even his subconscious couldn’t go through with Dave hitting him, throwing up a wall of glass between them. It’s nice to hear said aloud, though.

Karkat tilts his head to kiss Dave’s palm, then his wrist, his own hand coming up to cover Dave’s. His cheek tingles where Dave touches it.

“I know you won’t, baby,” he says. “You’re the least violent person I’ve ever met. My brain’s just fucked up, you know? I probably just need time to adjust or something.”

He pulls Dave’s hand away from his face and carefully presses a kiss to each fingertip. Dave’s never done anything but treat him like he’s _worth_ something. A small part of him wants to say that Dave _could_ hurt him, if he wanted to, but he recognizes that as hideously unhealthy and squashes it down.

-

Dave watches as Karkat kisses at his palm, his wrist, then each of his fingertips. It’s such a sweet and intimate touch that it has Dave swallowing a sudden lump in his throat.

Karkat cups his hand over the back of Dave’s and looks down at him with his large brown eyes, adoring but holding a tinge of sadness to them that makes Dave’s heart ache. He moves his hand to cup the back of Karkat’s neck and pulls him down onto his lips, rising upward to meet him halfway.

He pulls away, pressing a quick kiss to Karkat’s cheek before he hooks his arm around him and pulls him down even more, pushing Karkat’s face into his chest as he buries his face into Karkat’s drying hair and breathes in the smell of his familiar conditioner.

“I can be patient,” Dave says.

He doesn’t know what else he can say. He can’t make Karkat believe in the fact Dave will never lay a hand on him with violent intent any more than Dave can convince Karkat that his past relationships were in fact abusive.

It wouldn’t happen overnight. He knew that. It was okay. He could wait for as long as it took. Karkat was worth that.

-

Dave’s been nothing _but_ patient with him and Karkat feels bad for asking for more. But he smiles against Dave’s chest as his boyfriend squeezes him like a teddy bear, taking an obvious sniff of his hair. Karkat laughs.

“Thanks baby,” he says, voice muffled against Dave’s skin. “You hungry?”

Karkat has nightmares off and on for the rest of the week. He keeps them mostly to himself, not wanting to make Dave feel worse. None of them are as bad as that first one, at least, and they fall back into their routine pretty quickly.

The weekend comes with another bout of anxiety, but this one is much easier to handle. His dad will love Dave, and Dave will love his dad (and his dad’s food), and everything will be fine. The anxiety feels more out of habit than anything, and Karkat’s in a good mood when he crawls out of bed mid-morning on Saturday, stumbling into the kitchen to accept the mug of coffee Dave presses into his hands. He wraps an arm around Dave’s waist and presses a kiss to his forehead, and when he opens his eyes he sees John staring at them with a silly grin, resting his chin in his hands. Karkat makes a face.

“Don’t you have something better to do, Egbert?” he asks grumpily.

“Not until three,” John says, chipper as ever.

-

Karkat rolls his eyes at John and then pulls away from Dave to go start on breakfast. Dave looks over at John, who wiggles his eyebrows at him and grins his cheeky, toothy grin. Then John excuses himself from the kitchen to go and play some video games in the living room.

Dave looks over at Karkat, watching the muscles move in his back under his shirt as he putters around opening the fridge and cupboards as he pulls out ingredients for breakfast.

Karkat seemed less anxious than he had for meeting Dave’s friends, or Dave meeting his, but he still radiated some nervous energy as Dave watched him move about. Karkat always busied himself when he was anxious—maybe that was why he cooked so often. It kept him occupied and took his mind off of things and let him focus on something else for a while.

Dave steps over and presses a little kiss to the back of Karkat’s neck.

“Excited to see your old man, babes?” Dave asks, resting his chin on Karkat’s shoulder.

-

Karkat’s going to make chocolate chip pancakes. No bacon or anything on the side, because his dad will be stuffing them full of food soon enough. He smiles when he feels Dave against his back.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s been awhile. I’ve missed him. And this time Kankri won’t be there, so that’s a plus.”

He loves his brother but holy shit does he want to throttle him whenever they’re within ten feet of each other.

“How are you feeling about today?” he asks, mixing together the pancake batter. Dave seems fine. He doesn’t seem nervous at all, which tracks. Dave has a pretty laid-back attitude about pretty much everything and Karkat envies it greatly, even when it infuriates him.

-

Dave was looking forward to visiting Karkat’s dad all week long.

Now that the day is here at last, he’s still excited, but also his stomach has been doing backflips ever since he woke up. He sort of feels like he’s about to get onto a rollercoaster, and is realizing just now he has a phobia for them. But he already paid for the ticket and he’s next in line so there’s no backing out now.

“I feel good,” Dave says lightly, choosing not to voice those particular thoughts he was just having.

He kisses Karkat on the shoulder, then rests his cheek on the same spot as he looks sideways at his boyfriend with a crooked smile.

“I’ll feel even better once I get my little mitts on a photo album, though,” Dave says, “If I don’t see some baby Karkat’s, I’m filing a complaint.”

-

Oh, god.

“Have fun,” Karkat says dryly. “I was an ugly baby.”

He was an ugly kid, teenager, and adult as well, but he doesn’t say so. Dave is going to laugh his ass off when he sees Karkat before his growth spurt. He fleetingly wonders if they would have been friends if they met when they were younger, but he doubts it. Karkat was even more of an asshole than he is now.

He kisses Dave on the cheek, then goes about making them pancakes. He adds extra chocolate chips to John’s, because being an asshole is a chronic condition.

-

“I won’t listen to this slander,” Dave says, “I love all versions of Karkat equally, I won’t let you shit talk BabyKat in this way.”

Karkat’s trying to pour pancake batter into the pan but Dave keeps bugging him, keeping pressed close to him and nibbling at the fleshiest part of his cheek.

“Hashtag Justice for BabyKat,” Dave says, kissing down Karkat’s jaw before nibbling at his jawline.

-

“Oh my god,” Karkat laughs. “Do you ever fucking stop?”

Even though he says this, he tilts his head, giving Dave access to his throat as he sets the bowl down, letting his eyes fall shut.

“You’ll see for yourself,” he says. “I was hideous. Your hashtag will never get off the ground.”

He enjoys the feeling of his boyfriend mouthing at his neck and jaw for a few moments. It takes a lot of effort to pull himself back and give Dave a crooked smile.

“If you want breakfast anytime soon you’re gonna have to cut that out, babe,” he says.

-

Nothing motivates Dave better than food, and Karkat knows this and uses it to his advantage as often as possible.

Dave makes a show of frowning, petulant and cutesy and entirely for show, before he pulls away.

“Fine,” he says, stepping back and readjusting his shades on the bridge of his nose, “Also you might think you’re being a dick by putting extra chocolate in John’s pancake but I know for a fact he’ll think you did it to be nice. Homeboy loves chocolate.”

-

Karkat’s mouth falls open, betrayed.

“Out of my kitchen,” he commands, spinning Dave around by the shoulders and marching him past the doorway. “Backstabber.”

Dave laughs, and Karkat returns to cooking. When he has a nice tall stack he splits them into three plates and carries them into the living room, then heads back to get syrup and his coffee. 

He plops down halfway on Dave’s lap and grabs his plate.

“Oh! Extra chocolate chips!” John says excitedly. “Thanks Karkat!”

Karkat shoots Dave a dirty look.

-

Dave grins at the look Karkat gives him, then pops a bite of pancake into his mouth, raising his eyebrows in a ‘told you so’ expression.

John takes everyone’s plates once they’re all finished and heads to the kitchen to wash up, as the Agreement goes. He’s been in good spirits ever since he and Dave had talked things out and Karkat had apologized, and Dave and Karkat had been good to their word. They kept their ‘activities’ to a low volume if John had an early day the next morning, and in turn they could be as gooey as they wanted with John in the room (within reason, of course) without John pulling any faces at them. Except the occasional cat call whistle, just to be a shit.

John comes back into the living room and plops down. “Hey, Karkat, want to play a bit more of A Way Out before you and Dave go to your dad’s?”

-

Karkat squints at John consideringly.

“Fine,” he says. “But only if you actually fucking listen to me this time. Can you do that Egbert? Can you follow simple instructions?”

Dave snorts and John says that yes, he can. Karkat is doubtful, but they set the game up anyway. John is a filthy fucking liar and Karkat is about ready to commit manslaughter at the end of an hour, while Dave laughs his ass off. Whatever, Karkat will kill him too.

“I’m gonna poison your food,” Karkat threatens. John beams at him.

-

Dave watches gleefully as Karkat and John play the video game together, and Dave is reminded yet again that he would never want to wind up in prison with John Egbert because neither of them would ever be able to escape. Dave finds it miraculous they’ve managed to get as far in the game that they have, with John’s need to interact with every godforsaken thing in the game.

Before they know it they’ve been playing for a few hours and it’s after noon. John had a shift at three, so he saves and shuts the game off so he can start to get ready. He heads out of the room and Dave smiles as Karkat leans back against the couch cushions and rubs at the bridge of his nose.

Dave bumps his knee against Karkat’s, and leans over to kiss his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Guess we ought to be hitting the road soon, huh? Takes a bit to get to your dad’s place.”

-

Karkat’s torture comes to an end when John has to get ready for work, which is a good thing since Karkat’s starting to get a pounding headache. John has that effect on him.

He nods at Dave and, after John leaves, they get ready. After they’ve showered, Karkat helps Dave into a non-button up shirt, at Dave’s insistence, and it’s then that Karkat picks up on the tiniest bit of anxiety coming from his boyfriend.

“He’s gonna love you,” Karkat tells him reassuringly, kissing Dave’s chin before pulling back and grabbing his hand, tugging him towards the door. “C’mon, babe. Two hour car ride. You can put your music on.”

-

Karkat sees right through Dave, as usual, picking up on the minuscule amount of anxiety that Dave lets creep through his defences.

Karkat says his dad will like him, so Dave just needs to trust in that, and try and trust in himself to not make a giant ass out of himself so he can make a good impression.

They get into the car and Dave automatically sets up his phone on the aux cord and starts playing some tunes. It’s a long drive to Mr. Vantas’ place, but Karkat and Dave enjoy taking drives together often so they manage to fill the time with chatter and music.

The mindless chatter and the tunes all help to keep Dave’s mind occupied, but when they get to the house he feels his nerves kick back up again. He doesn’t want Karkat to feel worried, though, so he throws on a big smile as they step out of the car and head up to the door.

Should he grab Karkat’s hand? A quick reassuring kiss on the cheek? Normally it’s not even something he needs to think about, but now his mind is racing.

Karkat probably isn’t going to knock, right? This was his dad’s place, so they’d probably just let themselves in. Dave sticks close to Karkat’s side as they go over to the door, feeling like he should say something—something a good boyfriend/soulmate would say—but he’s coming up blank.

-

Dave plays it cool but Karkat can tell that he’s growing more anxious the closer they get to Karkat’s childhood home. He falls silent, starts shifting his weight and fidgeting more. It’s kind of sweet, actually, that he’s worried about this.

When they reach the door, Karkat grabs Dave’s hand and turns to him, smiling softly.

“You need a minute, babe?” he asks. He’ll wait outside the door for hours if he needs to, until Dave’s ready. “My dad’s not very intimidating, I promise.”

He’s a big grump, just like Karkat. He can be loud and Karkat definitely inherited his tendency to swear up a storm, but he’s always been supportive and did his best to raise two kids by himself. His dad will fucking adore Dave, because Karkat adores him, and his dad has only ever wanted him to be happy.

Dave makes him happy.

He steps forward and presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek, slipping an arm around his waist and running his hand up and down his back. He gives Dave a reassuring smile, opening his mouth to tell him he loves him, when the door swings open and Karkat is yanked away from Dave and pulled into a crushing hug.

“Hey, kid,” his dad says gruffly, squeezing the air out of him. He takes a step back, hands on Karkat’s shoulders, and looks him up and down, a smile sliding onto his face. “You look good. Been sleeping better?”

Karkat doesn’t get a chance to answer because his dad turns to Dave with a critical eye, sticking his hand out to shake--the _wrong_ hand. Dave couldn’t shake it if he tried, not with his broken arm.

“You must be Dave,” his dad says. “Nice to meet you.”

Karkat punches his dad in the shoulder, groaning. “Stop being a dick.”

His dad drops his arm and snickers, stepping aside and waving them in. The smell of food hits Karkat as they enter the house.

-

Just as Dave is opening his mouth to say--well, he's not sure what, but something--Karkat beats him to it, grabbing Dave's hand and looking at him with a gentle smile that makes Dave's chest ache in the best way.

He asks Dave if he needs a minute--fuck, Dave was not doing a good job hiding his nerves, apparently. He needed to hurry up and get his fucking shit together before--

Karkat kisses his cheek, pulling Dave from his panicked thoughts once again. He rubs Dave's back, and Dave feels muscles loosen that he didn't know were even constricted to begin with. Karkat opens his mouth to speak but then the door flies open and both of them shoot their gaze forward.

Karkat is pulled away from Dave before Dave can even really get a look at who came to the door, and Dave stands back and watches get pulled into a bear hug by someone even bigger than he is. When the man takes a step back to look Karkat over, Dave is finally able to get a better look.

The resemblance is fucking uncanny. Karkat's dad is just a broader, taller, older version of Karkat. He's got flecks of gray in his hair, especially around his ears, and some stubble around his chin that looks like flecks of salt and pepper. The same large brown eyes with thick, dark eyelashes, full lips...

Oh, fuck, no. Nononono, he is not thinking about his boyfriend's dad's fucking lips.

Dave's gaze is pulled away as Mr. Vantas shoots out his large hand toward Dave, and Dave almost lifts up his hand to shake it but...oh, it's the wrong hand. Did Mr. Vantas not realize, or...?

Karkat punches his dad on the arm, looking embarrassed, and Dave puts two and two together. Oh, this was one of those Dad Jokes people talked about. It's Dave's first time experiencing one first-hand.

Dave still hasn't introduced himself or said a fucking word in general but Mr. Vantas is already inviting them inside, so Dave follows close behind as Karkat steps into the house.

The smell hits Dave the moment he steps into the foyer, and he nearly groans.

"Holy fuck, it smells like Gordon Ramsey built his eight-hundreth restaurant in here." Dave blurts out.

Fuck. Fuckfuck. Mr. Vantas and Karkat both look at him, and Dave presses his lips together.

Way to fucking go, Strider. The first words he says in front of Karkat's dad and the second word out of his mouth is the fuck word.

It could be worse, Dave figures bitterly. It could have been the very first word.

-

Dave’s face flushes and Karkat snorts. His dad reaches over and hits him lightly upside his head. Karkat scowls.

“Thank you Dave,” his dad says. “Finally, someone who fucking appreciates my cooking.”

“I appreciate it!” Karkat protests. “It’s not my fucking fault you bury me in food I can’t possibly eat every time I come here.”

“You can give it to your friends,” his dad replies. “I know they don’t eat right. Have you been eating full meals? Not living off that ramen shit?”

Karkat rolls his eyes. “ _Yes_ , dad. God. I’ve been eating fine. Get off my fucking back.”

They bicker a few moments more before his dad turns back to Dave while Karkat crosses his arms huffily.

“Sorry, kid. I don’t get to see Karkat often,” he says, sticking his hand out--the correct one, this time--for Dave to shake. “I’m Stefan. I hope you kids are hungry.”

-

Dave blinks rapidly behind his shades as Karkat's dad and Karkat trade f-bombs back and forth. Guess he was worried over nothing--figures Karkat got his dirty mouth from his old man.

He watches with fascination as Karkat bickers with his dad, his lips parted slightly with awe. Dave clamps his lips shut again when Karkat's dad looks at him and addresses him again.

He calls him _kid_. Dave had just heard him call Karkat that, because he _was_ his kid. But he was calling Dave 'kid', too. His brown eyes soft and crinkled with mirth as he holds his hand out to Dave.

Bro used to call him 'kid', too. But Bro never said it the way Mr. Vantas said it. Bro always seemed to… _spit_ out the word, never saying it with any ounce of affection. More like disdain. That's what all his petnames were like.

Li'l man. Kid. Kiddo. Baby bro.

Said with condescension instead of compassion.

Mr. Vantas isn't teasing this time. He's holding out the correct hand for Dave to take. Dave raises his arm, and grasps his hand. He introduces himself as Stefan as their hands clasp and shake up and down.

His hands are just as warm as Karkat's, though not as soft.

"It's nice to meet you, St--" Dave hesitates. Mr. Vantas had given Dave his name, but Dave probably shouldn't call him by his first name when they'd just met, right?

He had no idea how any of this worked. He'd never met his significant other's parents before. Because he'd never had a significant other. What were the rules?

"--Sir." Dave finishes.

The word is heavy on his tongue. He hasn't used it for a long time. But...it was the right word to use here, Dave thinks. It demands respect.

-

Dave calls his dad _sir_ and Karkat cocks an eyebrow. Maybe Dave is more nervous than he thought? Or maybe he’s trying to make a good impression. That’s incredibly sweet.

“No need for that,” his dad says, giving Dave’s hand a firm shake before letting go. “Call me Stefan. Or Mr. Vantas, if you must. You’re Karkat’s soulmate; you’re practically family already.”

Karkat grins. His dad leads them into the kitchen and gives them each a plate. The counters are covered with various dishes. Casseroles, chilli, deserts, a whole ham with pineapple slices stuck to it with toothpicks. Lasagna and various dips and salads. Karkat sighs.

“It looks like you’re hosting a potluck,” he says.

“Shut up and get your food,” his dad orders.

They pile their plates high and sit at the kitchen table, which is out of the ordinary. Normally they’d eat in the living room and watch TV, but his dad wants the chance to interrogate Dave, apparently.

“So, Dave,” his dad says once they’re seated. “Tell me about yourself. Karkat’s been surprisingly reluctant to give me any details. All he’s told me is that you met because he ran you over.”

His dad looks at him with a disappointed frown and Karkat sinks into his seat, shoving a fork full of pulled pork into his mouth.

“It was an accident,” he pouts.

-

Stefan says not to call him sir, telling Dave to call him by his name, or Mr. Vantas. That was what Dave had defaulted to in his head, and it felt a little more respectful than just calling him Stefan. He’d stick with Mr. Vantas for now, he decides.

_You’re practically family already._

That makes Dave’s heart lurch and his cheeks go hot in an instant. He sees Karkat grinning, and that makes his heart squeeze even tighter. Karkat rarely smiled so wide, it was one of Dave’s favourite sights to see.

Stefan leads them into the kitchen, where there is a whole fucking plethora of food waiting. Karkat really wasn’t exaggerating when he said his dad would go all out. Stefan hands Dave a plate, and he has no idea where to start. It all looks so good that he wants to pile his plate high with a little of everything.

He doesn’t want to look like a fucking glutton, though. Dave decides to take a piece of lasagna, some casserole, a bit of salad, and a piece of ham.

They all sit down at the kitchen table, which is...weird. But nice. Dave’s never done anything like this before. The only time he’d ever had a sit-down meal were the rare occasions he went out to eat a restaurant with John. Otherwise they ate all their meals on the couch because they didn’t have a dining table.

Stefan addresses Dave the moment they sit down, before Dave has even grabbed a forkful of lasagna. He smiles a little at Karkat’s pout, because it’s fucking adorable. Seemed like the one person who could get Karkat like this was his dad. There was something awfully endearing about that.

“It was my fault,” Dave explains with a little half-shrug, “I was skateboarding, and about to do a trick out on the road. Thought the street was empty so I didn’t think to check for cars before I jumped out.”

Dave pauses to take a bite of lasagna, and his eyes bulge out as he swallows his bite, though it’s hidden by his shades.

“Oh, damn, this is _really_ fucking good.” Dave says, eagerly grabbing another bite.

-

Dave takes responsibility for the accident _again_ , and Karkat frowns. They’re never going to agree about this. Or the Monopoly game. They’re going to be old and grey and still arguing about this. 

Growing old with Dave. There’s a pleasant thought.

Dave complements his dad’s food and his dad’s face breaks out into a grin. Few things make his dad happier than people enjoying the food he made.

“I’ll send you home with leftovers,” his dad promises. “So, are you in school? Do you work? What are your hobbies?” “Dad,” Karkat groans. “Just let him eat. You can grill him after.”

Afterwards his dad will hopefully fall into a food coma and be too tired to do much but shove an embarrassing photo album or two Dave’s way. There won’t be many pictures for Dave to laugh at, at least. Karkat started avoiding cameras around seven or eight years old, once he realized how shitty he looks, and he didn’t want photographic evidence of it floating around.

-

Mr. Vantas keeps the questions coming, but Karkat isn’t having it, telling his dad to let Dave eat.

Mr. Vantas gives a little shrug, and goes back to his own food without any further argument. Dave has to admit he’s thankful for it. For one thing, he does just want to scarf down this awesome food without trying not to choke on it while he talks. Also Karkat hates when he talks with his mouth full so he’s sure Mr. Vantas would, too. He’s probably the one who taught Karkat that kind of good etiquette, after all.

Dave also isn’t sure how to answer those questions. He never went to college. He did art and music commissions while he lived in Houston, saving up ever since he was thirteen years old because he knew Bro would give him the boot the minute he was a legal adult.

And it was a good thing he did, because sure enough he was out the door at eighteen and used his savings to get the hell out of Houston and moving in with John. He found a job as quick as he could after that, and hasn’t stopped working since. He still does art and music commissions for some extra cash flow on the side along with his job.

Would Mr. Vantas not like the fact that Dave had never gone to college? He seemed happy just to know he was Karkat’s soulmate, but...was that really enough to make him worthy to be with Karkat?

Shouldn’t he have more ambition? All he’d ever thought about all his life was getting out of Houston. After he did that, he just wanted to...live. Finally be free to do what he wanted, without a collar around his neck. He’d sort of just been coasting along for the last few years, until Karkat had dropped into his life.

Now all of a sudden he was Karkat’s soulmate and boyfriend and...and he wanted to be with Karkat for the rest of his life.

He wanted to...he wanted to marry him.

He wanted to be able to give Karkat everything he deserved. Dave couldn’t exactly do that working some slightly-above minimum wage job.

All Dave used to care about was freedom.

Now, more than anything else, he wanted Karkat.

Maybe that could be his new ambition. Making sure he was someone worthy of being Karkat’s soulmate.

-

They eat and casually chatter. Karkat fills his dad in on his life; his job, how his friends are doing. He and his dad both make a point to keep Dave in on the conversation, but he’s oddly quiet. Karkat’s concern grows as they finish up. Karkat collects their plates and puts them in the sink; he’ll wash them before he goes.

“You want a tour?” Karkat asks. “Since my dad doesn’t have any fucking manners?”

“Watch the mouth,” his dad says, eyes glinting with amusement. “Go show your soulmate the house. Keep the door open.”

Karkat’s face turns red. Jesus christ, why is his dad so fucking embarrassing?

He grabs Dave’s hand, tugging him out of the room. It’ll be good to give Dave some time to regroup away from his dad, he thinks.

“That’s the living room,” he says, waving his hand. “The bathroom’s down there next to the door to the garage.”

He takes Dave upstairs, through halls lined with cringey family photos.

“That’s my dad’s room,” he says, pointing to the room furthest away. “Across the hall is his office. This here is Kankri’s old room.”

He opens a door, revealing a weirdly neat room. His dad could have converted their rooms to guest beds or gyms or something, but he kept them pretty much the way they were when he and Kankri moved out, just in case they ever needed to come home to something familiar. Kankri’s just a neat freak.

“Yeah, Kankri’s boring as fuck,” he says, shutting the door. He opens the last door and steps inside. “This one’s my room.”

He’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as he looks around. There are empty spaces where his books used to be, where his computer sat on his desk, but mostly it’s the same. Same posters on the walls, same dorky collector’s items on his shelves. There’s a corkboard he made featuring various shit he was interested in over the years, along with a picture of himself and Terezi, right when he got out of high school. Ugh. Embarrassing. 

“Are you okay?” Karkat asks, turning away from his memories to look at Dave.

-

They finish up eating and then Karkat decides to give Dave a tour of the house, which Dave gladly accepts. His own cheeks burn a little at Mr. Vantas’ comment about keeping the door open, but now doesn’t light up nearly as bad as Karkat does.

They go upstairs and Dave quickly takes in the photos lining the hallways as he walks. Family vacations, school pictures, birthdays, graduations...all kinds of memories, photographed and put up on the walls.

Then they get to Karkat’s room, and as Dave steps inside he’s suddenly struck with the realization he’s standing in the room where Karkat grew up.

It doesn’t smell like Karkat anymore, not after all these years, but Karkat is everywhere else in this room. Dave is over inspecting the corkboard, smiling at an old picture of Karkat and Terezi when Karkat suddenly asks if Dave is okay.

Dave pokes at the scowling preteen Karkat’s face in the picture, looking over his shoulder at the young-adult Karkat with a smirk.

“So you were just always a big fuckin’ cutie, huh?” Dave says, “That’s just unfair, babe.”

He walks around the room some more before his eyes fall on a picture frame on the shelf, and his little smirk softens. Dave reaches out slowly and picks up the picture frame to get a closer look.

It wasn’t even dusty. Mr. Vantas must still come in and clean his boy’s rooms, even though they didn’t live at home anymore.

“This is your mom, right?” Dave asks quietly, still staring at the picture.

She was in some of the pictures in the hallway, too, but Dave wasn’t able to get a good look at them. This particular picture is of a much younger Karkat, pretty much a toddler, with a young lady with dark hair and a bright smile.

“She’s pretty.” Dave says, “You look a lot like your dad, but...you got her smile, no doubt about that.”

-

It’s weirdly nerve-wracking to watch Dave inspect his room. Especially the pictures, few as they may be. He points at the picture of Karkat’s ugly, chubby young face, covered with acne and calls him _cute_. Karkat wrinkles his nose, but Dave’s already moving on, singling out the picture of Karkat’s mom.

“Oh, uh,” he stumbles. “Yeah. That’s her.”

Dave’s face is soft as he looks at the picture, and it makes Karkat’s heart pound in his ears. He picks up the picture and smiles.

“I’m pretty much a shittier copy of my dad,” he says. “Kankri looks much more like her.”

It was a point of contention for him, growing up. Kankri got to look like their mother, got to see her features in himself every time he looked in the mirror. Karkat didn’t get anything from his mother. Not his features or his personality or anything. He was bitter about it for a long time, but he’s moved on and made peace with it years ago.

-

Dave reaches over and pokes at one of the lines on Karkat’s cheek from his little smile.

“She’s right there, though,” Dave says, “And babe, if you’re just going to keep on aging like fine wine and grow up to look like your dad, you need to give a guy some warning because I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive.”

He basically just admitted to finding Karkat’s fucking dad attractive, but...but Karkat’s dad looks like Karkat! It wasn’t weird! He didn’t know Karkat was the spitting image of his dad. He couldn’t help it that the entire Vantas family were all smokin’ hot foxes!

Dave’s cheeks fill with colour, and he goes over to inspect a movie poster. “So like, did you ask an usher at the theatre for this 50 First Dates poster, because I can’t imagine it was sold anywhere. Or did you get it printed custom?”

-

Dave is sweet, but his comment has Karkat’s eyebrows raising. They raise even further as he tries to change the subject. Karkat comes up behind him, grabbing him by the waist, and smirks.

“Let’s rewind and talk about how you just called my dad hot,” he says. “It was the food, wasn’t it? He stole you away with the food. I knew this was a bad idea.”

-

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

Dave keeps his back turned, staring at Adam Sandler’s stupid little grin and Drew Barrymore’s wide look of confusion for longer than is necessary before he finally slumps back against Karkat, twisting around to hide his burning face in his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“In my defence, the two of you are fucking identical. So obviously if I think you’re hot, I’m gonna think your dad is, too.” Dave grumbles, “And yes it was also the food. But...but your hands are softer than his.”

Dave ears are fucking scorching, he’s blushing so much. He needed to learn when to shut the hell up. Fuck this was embarrassing.

-

Karkat doesn’t know what the softness of his hands has to do with anything, but Dave is being unreasonably adorable, burying his face into Karkat like Karkat can’t see his red ears. He laughs under his breath, dragging his nails up Dave’s back.

They aren’t _exactly_ identical. Karkat’s seen pictures of his dad at his age, and he was far and beyond more attractive than Karkat. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me for my dad,” he teases. “He’s going to be so smug.”

-

Dave groans in despair, burying his face deeper into Karkat’s shirt and grabbing at the back of Karkat’s shirt feebly.

“Just because every Vantas is exactly My Type doesn’t mean I’m theirs. Scrawny blonde stringbean isn’t exactly palette-able to everyone,” Dave mumbles, “This never leaves this room. If you love me, you won’t betray my confidence. Also I don’t think I could take his rejection.”

He’s trying to joke, but he’s still blushing too much for it to properly land. In fact it feels like he’s just digging himself into an even deeper hole.

-

Karkat’s not sure where to start with this one. That he certainly hopes not _every_ Vantas is his type? That anyone would be lucky to have Dave’s attention? That he’s fucking gorgeous, and Karkat loves his long, graceful limbs and the way his golden hair glows like a halo when the light hits it right? That the words _if you love me_ stir up some memories Karkat would rather not think about?

“So you’d definitely leave me if he gave you a chance,” he says, keeping his voice light. “That hurts, baby. He didn’t even hit you with his car.”

He’s not sure why Dave is so embarrassed about this. Karkat won’t tell his dad (even if he would get a kick out of it and be flattered), and it is kind of a relief, knowing that Dave would still think he’s attractive when he’s older.

-

“Oh my fucking god,” Dave says, his voice strained between an exasperated laugh and talking between his teeth as he shakes his head.

He grips the back of Karkat’s shirt tighter and twists them around, shoving Karkat firmly so he tumbles backwards onto the bed. Dave clambers into the bed and straddles Karkat’s legs and grabs the front of his shirt.

Dave looks down at Karkat, enunciating each word as he continues to laugh.

“You,” he grips Karkat’s shirt a little tighter and shuffles his weight to properly pin Karkat down more, “are such. A dick.”

He leans down and firmly presses his lips to Karkat’s mouth so he doesn’t have to listen to any more smartass comments come out of it.

-

Dave tips him over onto the bed in a move that has Karkat swooning inside. He’s laughing, and Karkat loves his laugh so fucking much, even more when it’s paired with Dave calling him a dick and pinning him to the mattress.

He has other things to say, but Dave shuts him up with kisses that Karkat quickly gets lost in, mouth opening to let his boyfriend slip his tongue in. He loves when Dave gets like this, bossy and pushy, exasperated with Karkat’s shit.

When Dave pulls away, Karkat is panting and flushed, and he chases Dave’s mouth as far as he can before letting his head fall back to the bed and giving a wry smile.

“Pretty sure this is why dad said to leave the door open,” he says. Then, in a move copied blatantly from Dave, he wiggles his eyebrows. “Unless your plan is for him to see.”

Being in this house makes him feel like a teenager again, but one in a much better place than he actually was back then. This bed certainly never had anyone but Karkat in it. He feels light, weightless with happiness, as Dave keeps him pressed against the mattress. 

-

Karkat is in a mischievous, teasing mood it would seem. Dave loves it as much as he loves every side of Karkat, but it isn’t helping him one-up Karkat with the flustering. He thought he had him there with that whole maneuver he just did (the look on Karkat’s face had been priceless) but Karkat came right back at him with another fucking jab about Dave having a crush on Mr. Vantas.

Dave narrows his eyes down at Karkat as Karkat waggles his fucking eyebrows up at him. That move was pulled right out of Dave’s book, and Karkat always shoved Dave’s head away whenever Dave did it to him. What a fucking hypocrite.

“Maybe he’ll ground your ass,” Dave mutters, “Serves ya right for bein’ such a smug l’il shit.”

Dave leans back down as he presses another deep kiss to Karkat’s lips, rolling his hips with a little more force than necessary, jerking them forward so the headboard rattles and hits the wall.

Dave leans back and sneers. “Think I’ll be nice and noisy so he comes up to investigate and get you in trouble.” Dave says, “That’ll teach you.”

-

Ohhh fuck. Fuck, Dave is so hot and he’s rolling his hips and as much as Karkat wants to fuck him right here, on his old bed in his childhood bedroom, he also really, really doesn’t want his dad to walk in on them having sex.

Still, the temptation to tease Dave more is too much.

“So that _is_ your plan,” Karkat says, smirking up at his boyfriend until he rolls his hips again. He bites his lip, staring up at Dave with wide, dark eyes, warmth sparking in his stomach.

“You should stop, baby,” he says quietly. He doesn’t make any move to push Dave away.

-

Dave rolls his hips again, gentler this time, not enough to rock the headboard or squeak the bed springs. This one was just for them.

Karkat writhes beneath him and bites his lip, looking up at Dave with an expression that makes Dave want to swallow him whole.

“Yeah,” Dave murmurs as he leans back down, “I should.”

He releases his grip on Karkat’s shirt and runs his hand up Karkat’s chest, until his hand is cupping the side of Karkat’s neck, his thumb brushing across Karkat’s jawline. He leans down far enough to brush their lips together but makes no move to kiss Karkat. Not just yet.

“Which is exactly why I’m not going to,” Dave whispers.

Then he kisses Karkat again, this time soft and slow and sweet.

-

Dave is going to kill him. He touches Karkat’s neck, all gentle and light, sending tingling pleasure across his skin, then leans down but stays just out of reach, whispering honeyed words into the space between them. When he kisses Karkat again there’s no exasperation, no meanness. Just a soft, tender brush of lips that turns Karkat into a useless putty.

“ _Baby_ ,” he whines into Dave’s mouth. His hands come up to slip under Dave’s shirt, fingers moving reverently over the planes of his back. 

Dave is Karkat’s everything. His soulmate, his boyfriend, his best friend, the love of his life. He could convince Karkat to do anything and not even have to try very hard. If he wants to makeout or have sex in Karkat’s embarrassing old bedroom while his father is downstairs, likely growing suspicious as time goes on, Karkat won’t protest.

-

Karkat whines sweetly, and Dave sighs against their lips as Karkat’s hands slip under his t-shirt and run up his bare back.

They makeout like teenagers, desperate and wet and sloppy all while trying to barely move a muscle to keep the bed from creaking. Dave breaks away after a few minutes, lips kiss-bruised and shiny, face flushed, breath hot.

Dave grabs an old crab plushie that’s sitting by the pillows (it’s stitch job is atrocious, it must have been made by Terezi) and sits up just enough to chuck it across the room at the door like a baseball.

The half-open door gets hit by the stuffed crab which falls unceremoniously to the floor as the door swings in toward the door frame. It doesn’t shut the door entirely, but leaves it open just a tiny crack.

Technically, they’re not breaking any rules.

Dave looks back at Karkat, grinning as he pulls off his shades and sets them aside. Then he cups Karkat’s face and leans back down eagerly.

“C’mere, you,” Dave murmurs before capturing Karkat’s lips again.

They’re both smiling through the kiss, stifling hushed giggles as they trade little kisses back and forth, like this is the naughtiest thing in the world they could possibly be doing. Two grown men making out on a twin-sized mattress with Karkat’s dad downstairs who was probably very much aware that a simple house tour wouldn’t be taking this long.

-

Karkat is luckiest fucking person in the entire world. He’s sure of this, and it’s reinforced with every quiet laugh, every gentle kiss that Dave spares him. Karkat collects them each in his mind, carefully storing them away to replay later.

It’s surprising how this softness is such a fucking turn on, how each little press of lips sends a wonderful jolt through him. He sighs into Dave’s mouth, rubbing his hands up and down his sides, rucking up the fabric of his shirt.

He kisses along Dave’s jaw, little pecks, until he reaches his earlobe, flicking it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth and scraping his teeth over it. He drops back against the bed when Dave’s breath hitches, a proud smile twitching at his mouth.

It’s easier to do this now that the door is mostly closed. The little crab plushie’s beady little eyes stare at him judgmentally from the floor and Karkat flips it off behind Dave’s back.

-

Karkat bites at his ear and then leans back with a satisfied smile after Dave’s breath catches audibly in his throat. Dave quirks an eyebrow as he looks down at his boyfriend.

So that’s how it was gonna be, was it? Looked like Karkat wasn’t done with their little game just yet. Dave shakes his head a little as he scoffs.

“Oh, it’s on, motherfucker,” Dave mutters as he leans down.

He runs his hand into the hair at the nape of Karkat’s nape and tugs, pulling Karkat’s head to the side and giving him ample access to his neck. Dave licks a thick stripe right along the taut cord in Karkat’s throat, then bites down right in the middle and sucks the skin between his teeth.

A nice new juicy red mark for Mr. Vantas to spot the moment they go back downstairs, an instant giveaway to what they’d been up to. Dave pulls away with a wet smack, licking his lips.

“Should’ve told your dad not to bother making us any dessert,” Dave says, “Who needs it when I’ve got you around?”

-

Karkat gasps as Dave pulls his hair and whimpers when he bites his neck. Fuck, Karkat’s never had a complaint about Dave marking him up before, but his _dad_ is downstairs and he’s going to _see_ it. Karkat’s cheeks flame with embarrassment, squirming under his smug boyfriend.

“ _Dave_ ,” he whines. He’s not sure if he’s more upset about him leaving a mark on his neck or that he’d stopped. His hips twitch up, his dick rubbing against Dave’s thigh, and he lets out a harsh breath. 

Oh god, are they really going to do this? His face feels like it’s on fire and he bucks up again, pulling his lip between his teeth to stifle a pathetic, needy noise.

“C’mon, baby, please,” he says, reaching up to bury his hands in Dave’s hair, pulling him back down for a desperate kiss.

-

Karkat gasps and whimpers underneath him, his cheeks flushed dark and pretty when Dave pulls away to look down at him. Karkat squirms under his gaze, and Dave smiles, smug but incredibly fond all at once.

He really needed to assert dominance with Karkat more often. Karkat was always so stern and steadfast, always sweeping Dave away and Dave was obviously happy to be whisked off every time. But Karkat was so fucking adorable like this, simpering and demure and submissive. It made Dave want him so fucking badly it physically ached.

Karkat had told him he liked when Dave got ‘bossy’—at least that’s what Karkat referred to it as. Dave could certainly do bossy, if that’s what Karkat wanted.

And he would do anything for Karkat, if he asked for it. Especially with the way he is now, clinging to him so desperately, whining out his name so sweetly, so wonderfully needy as he begs.

Karkat pulls him down for a kiss and Dave goes gladly. They kiss sloppy and needy for a moment, then Dave starts trailing wet kisses along Karkat’s chin and jawline.

“The way you keep biting your lip like that, I’d say you’re tryin’ to rile me up on purpose,” Dave murmurs, “well, it’s working.”

He rolls his body against Karkat’s again, groaning at the feeling of their hard cocks rubbing together behind their pants as they dry hump like horny teens on the small bed.

“Fuck, Karkat, baby—“ Dave practically growls out as he holds a loud groan behind his teeth, “wanna fuck you so bad...”

-

Karkat isn’t able to refute Dave’s claim about why he’s biting his lip--it isn’t to rile him up, it’s to keep _quiet_ \--because Dave is grinding their cocks together, rolling his body and making fireworks shoot off in Karkat’s stomach. He covers his mouth with his hand to keep back the moan that threatens to escape.

He nods, eager and desperate, when Dave’s smooth voice says he wants to fuck him. God, yes, Karkat will never say no to that, he wants that _so much_. Bottoming is a rare treat for him and Dave makes it feel perfect and amazing each and every time.

He fumbles a hand towards his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He’s had to restock his backup condom and lube packet multiple times in the weeks he’s been together with Dave, after years of sex being a bedroom-only activity. 

“Dave,” he gasps. “Baby, please.”

-

Karkat nods eagerly and then he’s squirming again beneath Dave but this time it’s obviously to try to get into his pocket, so Dave shifts off of him a bit so he can access it better.

Karkat pulls out his wallet, flipping it open and pulling out a condom and lube packet. Dave had almost forgotten about Karkat’s magical backup wallet condom. Leave it to his boyfriend to always come prepared (pun absolutely intended).

Karkat begs _please_ , his big brown eyes shining with want, and fuuuck that’s cute, he’s got the cutest boyfriend in the world, he’s the luckiest bastard who ever lived. Dave absolutely needs to top Karkat more, the only reason he hasn’t been is because, A) Karkat takes the lead a lot and seems to enjoy doing so and it’s very very hot so obviously Dave isn’t gonna be a dumbass and turn him down, and B) it’s easier for Dave to bottom with this big fuckin’ cast on his arm so Bottom Dave has just been the default as of late.

But god...Karkat was in for a goddamn treat when Dave’s cast came off. Because whether Dave had Karkat’s words on his arm or not, he was going to do nothing but fuck Karkat’s brains out once the cast was off and he had his full range of movement back again.

Dave plucks the condom and lube from Karkat’s hands and leans down to kiss him quick on the lips.

“Glad we’re in agreement,” Dave says, keeping his voice low for only Karkat to hear. “Wanna keep lookin’ at your cute face, but...this’ll be easier if you flip over.”

Dave shifts off of Karkat’s hips so that Karkat can unbutton and unzip his jeans and then turn onto his stomach, hips lifted up as he pulls down his pants and boxers. Dave so wishes he could do this part himself, but for the dismal handful of times that Dave has topped over the weeks they’ve learned how to work around the cast situation the best they could. One of those things was Karkat handling certain things that Dave would just fumble with trying to do one-handed, such as pulling Karkat’s pants off.

 _Just you wait, baby_ , Dave thinks to himself as he leans down and kisses the back of Karkat’s head, his shoulder blade, down his back, _Not letting you lift a single solitary finger for this once I got both arms back in commission._

Dave pulls away to rip open the lube packet with his teeth, and empties all of it directly between Karkat’s cheeks. The lube is warm from being in Karkat’s wallet and pocket, but Karkat still jumps a little anyway, making Dave smile.

He tosses the packet aside and works his fingers around, coating them up. It’s been a while since Karkat bottomed, so he would need some prep before Dave could do much of anything. But they also had to be quick, so as much as Dave loved to take his time pulling Karkat apart, he’d have to do the Sparknotes edition here.

There wasn’t much lube in that little packet; it got Karkat’s hole pretty slicked up but didn’t leave much left for Dave’s fingers. Normally he might bring his fingers to Karkat’s mouth and tell him to get them nice and wet, because that’s real bossy-sexy, but they’re on a time crunch. No time for sexy finger sucking, sadly.

So Dave shoves his own fingers into his mouth and then brings them back to Karkat’s hole, pushing in his first finger and working it around, trying his best to make it feel good while also trying to get Karkat worked open quickly. Karkat pushes against the finger, muffling sounds into his arm and the sheets. So clearly he wasn’t feeling any discomfort. If anything, Dave had a feeling Karkat was going to get antsy very quickly and tell Dave to get on with it already if he didn’t hurry it up.

Dave adds a second finger, and while there’s a bit of resistance from Karkat’s entrance, Karkat himself has a very eager reaction to it. Clearly proper prep was not a concern here. Dave can’t help the grin that slides across his face at that.

Dave leans down to kiss at the back of Karkat’s neck, shushing him very half-heartedly when Karkat lets out a moan.

“Stay nice an’ quiet, babe,” Dave croons, “Can’t have you getting grounded, or you’ll old man won’t let me come over anymore. And it’ll be hard to sneak in through your window with my busted arm.”

Playing pretend was kind of silly, and not exactly Bossy Dave, but fuck it. He can’t control the bullshit that comes out of his mouth, especially when all the blood in his brain has gone to his dick.

He scissors open his fingers a few times, then adds a third finger, thrusting them in and out and trying to search out and push against Karkat’s prostate with every thrust in. He kisses Karkat’s ear, and then slowly pulls out his fingers. Karkat lets out a tiny whine, doing his best to stay quiet, and Dave lets out a chuckle full of affection because of it.

He kisses Karkat’s hair reassuringly, then leans back and quickly yanks down his pants and boxers, rips open the condom packet, and slides it on his dick, which has been achingly hard and sorely neglected this entire time.

He doesn’t let Karkat or his dick wait any longer than they have to. He presses the head of his cock against Karkat’s hole, letting out a soft, long groan as he slides past the tight ring of muscle and inside of Karkat, tight and hot and wet.

“Christ, baby...” Dave sighs, pushing in deeper. “Feel so fucking good.”

He leans some of the weight of his cast on Karkat’s back as he leans forward, kissing Karkat’s spine as his hips press against Karkat’s ass, and his cock bottoms out inside of him. He peppers little kisses wherever he can reach.

“Karkat...” Dave whispers, reverent and adoring.

-

Dave isn’t just teasing him, thank god. Not that Karkat thought he _would_ , but he seemed so determined to make a good impression on Karkat’s dad before, and fucking his son in the upstairs bedroom probably isn’t the way to do that. But whatever, it doesn’t matter, because Dave is telling him to take off his pants and flip over, and he even says that he wishes he could look at Karkat’s _cute face_ , which grows redder at the words.

He hides his face in his elbow, ass up and on display as Dave fumbles with the lube in his hand. This part is always embarrassing, before he’s really able to get lost in the feeling. The lube dripping onto his ass startles him even though he’s expecting it, causing him to jerk in surprise.

Karkat’s cock is already leaking, and they need to hurry the fuck up before his dad really does come upstairs, but Dave takes the time to work Karkat open with his fingers instead of shoving his dick in without any prep like Karkat expects. It’s still fast--faster than they’ve ever gone before--and the sting has him gasping, small noises slipping out of his mouth despite his efforts. 

He shoves himself back on Dave’s fingers, rolling his hips onto them. He wants to enjoy the sensation of Dave’s long fingers rubbing at his walls, easing him open, but more than that he _wants Dave inside him_ , wants that connection, wants Dave in and around him, stealing his breath away.

An incredulous laugh falls from his mouth when Dave starts talking like they’re teenagers, like being grounded is actually something to worry about. God, this is everything he wanted when he was sixteen; a beautiful boy in his bed, someone to love and care for and to love him in return.

Dave puts in another finger, finally, and Karkat can’t help his whimpers, tears building at the corners of his eyes as Dave presses kisses to his neck, his ear. Dave is so fucking _good_ , and the whine Karkat lets out when he removes his fingers is too fucking loud, but the sudden feeling of emptiness is terrible.

His boyfriend doesn’t leave him wanting for long, though, lining his cock up and pressing inside, filling him up so fucking good and kissing up his spine as he does so. Karkat bites the fabric of his sweater to keep quiet but muffled noises still slip out.

“Dave,” he whispers, when Dave stills inside him, pressed along Karkat’s back. “Move, c’mon.”

He rolls his hips, eyes fluttering at the feeling. Dave’s breath is hot on his neck as they move, Karkat rocking back against him, seeing stars with every thrust. There’s no time to take it slow, and Karkat’s hands grip the sheets tightly. They’ve been practicing being quiet since the pact made with John, but it’s not something that comes natural to Karkat. It’s embarrassing as shit but he’s loud, and trying to keep all his vocalizations muffled and soft takes so much fucking effort when all he wants to do is _feel_.

-

Karkat whispers out Dave’s name, a plea in his voice as he asks Dave to move. He’s probably trying to sound like his grouchy, demanding self but it doesn’t come anywhere close with him whispering and sounding so desperate.

Dave kisses the shell of Karkat’s ear and gives his boyfriend what he wants, picking up the pace. The bed creaks with every movement and Dave cringes a little at the sound, hoping it doesn’t carry through the floor. He’s never fucked someone with their parents home before, it really did make him feel like a teenager. Like the kind of teenager he was supposed to be, maybe would have been if his childhood hadn’t been so fucked up.

Instead he got out of Houston and...rebelled for the sake of rebelling. Smoked and drank and fucked his way all over town, touch-starved and aching for attention and not caring where it came from. Some of his partners had been pretty cool, but it was more common for the people interested in a quick fuck to be assholes. Not that Dave really cared back then. He was used to it, and if they didn’t treat him nice then Dave couldn’t possibly get attached. Made them ditching Dave for their soulmates or just some other lay a lot easier.

But even a quick fuck with Karkat was so much more than that. It was eager and passionate, fast and heady, the rush of possibly getting caught making Dave burn from the inside out.

Karkat is one noisy motherfucker in bed, even when he’s topping but especially while bottoming. Yet another reason why Dave really needed to top more, because Karkat’s sounds were like a fucking drug, Dave couldn’t get enough.

Even when Karkat was stifling himself, it was hot as hell. The fact he had to bite at his sweater to muffle himself, the fact it felt so good he needed to quiet himself...well, it was certainly a good ego boost. But mostly it was adorable as fuck.

Even with Karkat trying his absolute hardest to be quiet—putting more effort into it than he ever had with John across the hall—there were still sounds slipping free. God, that was sexy.

Dave shifts his weight a bit on the bed as he continues to thrust, trying his best to keep up the pace without moving the mattress too much, but the bed must be old as fuck because it squeaks no matter what Dave does.

Ahh, fuck it. They’ve been gone way too long by this point for Stefan not to know what the fuck was up.

Dave speeds up, building his pace and deepening his thrusts in tandem, trying to hit that spot in Karkat again and again as he feels his own climax ramping up.

“M’close, baby,” Dave gasps out, right into Karkat’s ear, “you gonna cum with me?”

-

Dave speeds up and ohhh god that feels so damn perfect. The bed is squeaking and it makes Karkat burn with embarrassment but it’s overwhelmed by the pleasure that pluses through him with every thrust. 

Dave’s voice in his ear is a beautiful sound, makes tingles spread across his scalp and down his neck. He doesn’t trust himself to speak so he nods quickly against his arm, urging the pace even quicker, reaching down with his free hand to grip his neglected cock. The room is filled with the sound of panting breaths and Karkat’s whimpers--Dave, damn him, is so much better at remaining unaffected than he is--and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

His boyfriend has worked him up so thoroughly that it only takes a few quick pumps of his dick and a particularly well-angled thrust to have him spilling into his hand, eyes squeezing shut and toes curling. He moans brokenly into his sweater as Dave keeps going, fucking him relentlessly as he chases down his own orgasm.

-

Karkat nods quickly, obviously unable to speak without getting too loud. Dave goes even faster, groaning softly at the fast friction on his cock.

He hears Karkat moan into his arm, can feel Karkat squeeze around him with his release. Dave groans, not letting up, not slowing down, fucking Karkat through it as he rides out his orgasm and Dave's own crashes over him like a wave.

"Fuck--Karkat--nnh, fu-cck--" Dave digs his forehead into Karkat's shoulder and bites his lip to hold back any more sounds as he cums, hard and deep and fast inside of his boyfriend.

He gasps for air, keeping himself buried inside of Karkat's tight heat as his cock pulses, milking him dry. Dave realizes his cast is still pressed into Karkat's back and shit that can't be comfortable--his body feels like a lead weight but with a grunt of exertion he pushes himself upright and pulls out of Karkat gingerly.

He still hasn't mastered the one-handed condom tie-off, so he just rolls the rubber off his slowly-softening dick as carefully as possible and...sets it on the bedside table, cringing as the filled condom plops down beside a picture frame with a fucking family photo with all four of the Vantas's staring back at Dave with unknowing smiles. Dave sends a fervent prayer of forgiveness up to Mrs. Vantas, all chillaxing up in Heaven, probably all-seeing so she totally knows Dave just plowed her son in the bed she probably tucked him into when he was a kid.

_I am a depraved monster, I am so sorry, ma'am. Also say hi to Elvis for me._

Dave pulls up his boxers and shorts and then pushes his hair back and--oh, yuck, he forgot he had spit and lube all over his fingers. That's all up in his hair now, wonderful. Dave sighs and flops down onto his back beside Karkat, which makes the bed creak louder than ever and Dave snickers.

"Maybe we can tell your old man we were havin' a pillow fight?"

-

Karkat is panting and drooling uselessly as Dave pulls out of him, leaving him empty once more. He pulls his pants and boxers up awkwardly with one hand, grimacing at the mess in his other. Normally he’d just wipe it off on his clothes and wash them later, but that’s not really an option right now. 

He _loves_ being able to just bask in the afterglow, curled up around Dave until they either go again or peel themselves apart to shower. Luckily Dave ruins any desire to do so by opening his mouth and saying _that_.

He grabs his pillow and swats Dave with it, scowling, before standing up.

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

Karkat dips into the upstairs bathroom to wash his hands and try to make himself look a little less recently fucked. He comes back with a wet washcloth and tosses it at Dave’s face, coming over to flop next to him on the bed. It’s way too small for two grown ass men, and Karkat lays with half his body off of it, one foot resting on the floor and an arm splayed out across Dave’s stomach as he stares at the ceiling.

“I never snuck out the window as a teenager,” he admits seriously. “Never had anywhere to go. But I’m seriously considering trying it now.”

-

Dave grins when Karkat smacks him with the pillow, giving a little two finger salute as Karkat gets up to leave. He scoots a little closer to the wall so there's a bit more room for Karkat when he gets back, but Dave is long-limbed fucker and this bed is puny as fuck so it doesn't really accomplish much.

Karkat comes back and lays down next to him, only managing to fit about half of himself on the bed, one leg hanging off the edge and his arm coming down on Dave's stomach. Dave picks up Karkat's hand and kisses at his knuckles.

"I did it all the fuckin' time," Dave says, "But it was pretty easy 'cause we were right by the fire escape."

He turns Karkat's hand over and kisses at the pulse point on his wrist, his palm, up his index finger.

"I'm not leaving without those leftovers." Dave says.

-

“Walk home with them then, shitlicker,” Karkat says, no heat behind his words as Dave drops kisses all over his hand. It’s sappy and romantic and intimate, everything Karkat was looking for when he still lived in this room and more than he ever thought he’d get just months ago.

Karkat lets Dave kiss his fingertips before pulling his hand back, propping himself up and kissing him on the mouth, soft and sweet. He lingers there for awhile, the moment stretching out like chewing gum, before he pulls back with a sigh.

“Let’s go, baby,” he says. “The longer we wait the worse this will get.”

He gets up, the bed creaking beneath him, and gives Dave a hand.

-

Karkat rolls over to kiss Dave on the lips and Dave makes a happy little hum in the back of his throat. He wishes they could stay here in this tiny bed and kiss, but eventually Karkat pulls away with a defeated sigh.

Dave sits up and takes Karkat's hand, letting his boyfriend pull him up onto his feet even though he doesn't need the boost. He keeps his hand wrapped around Karkat's, bringing his hand back up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles some more. He gets extra affectionate after sex, so fucking sue him.

"Do I have sex hair?" Dave asks, "Is your dad gonna think my post-coital glow is just the result of a rigorous skincare routine or nah?"

-

It’s hard to feel anxious after a powerful orgasm and with Dave kissing all over his hand, but Karkat manages it.

“Oh my god,” he grumbles, reaching over to the table to grab Dave’s shades and carefully place them on his face, then forcefully shove them up the bridge of his nose. He runs his hand through Dave’s hair, tidying it, and sighs. “Good enough.”

He wraps Dave’s hand up with his own, bringing it to his mouth to place a kiss on his wrist, and walks out of the bedroom to face his demise. He and Dave walk hand-in-hand down the stairs and into the living room where his father is sitting, sipping at a beer and watching TV. He raises a bushy eyebrow at them.

“Did you at least use a condom?” his dad asks.

Karkat’s face lights up like a neon diner sign and he makes a humiliated, enraged noise that sounds alarmingly like a teapot going off. He spins on his heel, releasing Dave’s hand, and stomps towards the kitchen, intent on laying on the floor and asphyxiating himself in piles of leftovers. He always knew it would end this way.

-

Dave hears Karkat make a noise akin to a fucking dog whistle as his entire face fills with colour from the neck up. Karkat lets go of Dave's hand and storms off into the kitchen, and Dave watches him go then looks back at Mr. Vantas, who is looking at Dave expectantly.

Dave feels like a butterfly pinned to a corkboard under that intense, fatherly gaze. How dare Karkat betray him like this, and leave Dave to his father's wrath. Dave is pretty sure he's still flushed from the sex, and the blush only gets deeper the longer he stands there not saying anything.

Should he sit down? That felt incredibly fucking forward and rude considering what just happened, and he didn't want to be any more on Mr. Vantas' shit list than he already was.

"We did, sir," Dave says.

If Karkat's obvious embarrassment was any sort of giveaway, it was better to just be fucking up front about it. He throws the 'sir' back in there, even though Mr. Vantas had told him not to. It seemed only right, given the situation. Although he may have just shot any semblance of being a respectful young man in the mouth by not being able to keep his dick in his pants for more than two goddamn seconds.

-

While Karkat is in the kitchen bemoaning his existence, Mr. Vantas nods.

“Good,” he says. “Next time I’d appreciate it if the two of you could at least wait until you get home.”

He watches Dave shift uncomfortably for a moment, then stands, moving to the entertainment center and crouching down to open the cupboard doors at the bottom.

“Now, Karkat sent me a message explicitly stating not to ‘bust out the fucking photo albums,’” he says, smiling as he turns around with a small pile of old books held in his arms. “So, baby photos?”

-

Dave nods his head stiffly. "Yeah, totally, for sure. My bad."

Mr. Vantas stays on the couch for a moment, and Dave squirms a little, not sure what the fuck else to say or do. Maybe he should go make sure Karkat isn't trying to shove himself inside the oven or something. Before Dave can make a move, Mr. Vantas is getting up and walking over to a nearby cabinet, and comes back up with several books.

Holy shit. He was really gonna let Dave look at baby photos when Dave was just all up inside of his son less than five minutes ago? And he didn't even get mad or anything, which was...weird. Dave wasn't used to this level of understanding from a parental figure.

Mr. Vantas goes back over to the couch and sits down, putting the books on the coffee table and then picking up the first one. He looks back up at Dave, who still hasn't moved or said anything.

As much as he'd wanted to see babyKat photos and snicker at the embarrassed faces Karkat would make the entire time he and Mr. Vantas went through the books, Dave is still reeling from the fact he's getting let off the hook so easily. Just like that.

He was bad. He disobeyed. Mr. Vantas said to keep the door open which was basically universal unspoken code for 'don't fuck under my roof', and Dave did. He knows he's a fucking adult, but...this isn't his apartment, where he can do whatever the fuck he wants. This is Mr. Vantas' home. He gave one simple rule and Dave didn't follow it, didn't even attempt to, and yet...he wasn't getting chewed out. Grabbed by the collar and thrown out the door for being a disrespectful little shit--

_You live under my roof, you follow the rules, li'l man._

Dave's hand itches. His fingers curl inward but they don't close around a hilt. His sword is two hours away, under his bed. He didn't even bring his knife. He stopped carrying that around about a year ago.

Dave grabs at the hem of his shirt, his hand itching for something to hold onto.

-

Mr. Vantas flips open the first book, smile growing soft at the pictures on the page, then glances up at Dave. He hasn’t moved except to clutch at his shirt, and his knuckles are white. His face is entirely expressionless. 

“Are you okay, kid?” Mr. Vantas asks, eyebrows rising.

-

_Kid--_

_Get up, kid._

_His lungs are on fire. Sweat drips down from the hair on the nape of his neck, scorching in the heat. There's a deep, throbbing pain in his side, which he clutches to tightly. A broken rib, no doubt. The feeling is familiar. He's panting, wheezing, it sends a flash of pain through him when he tries to take a breath._

_He spits. Red spatters onto the cement. Shit. That wasn't a good sign, was it?_

_"I said get up, kid."_

_Dave coughs, and his throat is wet, like he's got a cold and it's full of mucus. Dave is pretty sure it isn't mucus. He swallows down copper. Maybe he just bit his tongue or something. Yeah._

_He grunts, rolling onto his side. He takes a few short breaths, hyping himself up, then tries to push himself up. The movement sends a shocking jolt of fresh pain through his side that makes his arms give out._

_There's a huff of breath above him. Something between a tired sigh and a scoff of resentment._

_Something nudges his leg._

_"C'mon. Up."_

_Dave opens his mouth to respond, but only a pathetic wheeze comes out._

_Another scoff, a little louder this time._

_"Guess we're done here."_

_There's the scraping of stone along the cement. Dave rolls his head around, just able to catch the back of his brother's hat before he slips past the door, now propped open with the cement brick._

_"Lots of time to think about what you did."_

_Then he's alone._

"Dave?"

Dave blinks. Mr. Vantas is watching him.

Oh. Right. Baby pictures. He'd always wondered what it looked like to have people document their kid's life like that, like they gave a shit.

"Yeah," Dave murmurs.

He walks over to the couch and sits down near the armrest.

-

Mr. Vantas looks over Dave carefully. He sees clammy pale skin, a blank face, trembling hands, a body curled as far away from him as possible while seated on the couch. Mr. Vantas frowns, thinking, then closes the book and sets it down on the coffee table. He stands up carefully.

“Y’know, I think Karkat should be around for this, don’t you?” he says casually. “Give me a second.”

He walks around the table, keeping his distance, and leaves the room.

Karkat is in the kitchen, sitting down and rhythmically banging his forehead against the table, hoping to kill off the last of his brain cells so he can officially be pronounced dead. He hears his dad enter--and it has to be his dad, because Dave doesn’t make noise when he walks unless he’s trying to--but doesn’t stop until he feels a heavy hand in his hair.

“Hey, kiddo,” his dad says. “Think you should stop whatever the hell you’re doing here and head on in there. Your boy needs you.”

Karkat freezes, sitting up and looking at his dad with wide eyes. His eyes dart to the hallway. 

“What happened?” he asks, standing up.

“I don’t know,” his dad says, frowning. “He froze up for a few minutes and didn’t react when I said his name. He kind of snapped out of it and sat down.”

Oh. That was. Oh. 

Karkat nods and quickly walks around his dad, down the hallway and into the living room without a backwards glance. Dave is sitting on the couch, staring blankly down at his hands. He’s pale as fuck and shaking. Karkat feels guilt crush him. He shouldn’t have fucking left Dave alone, what the fuck was he thinking?

“Dave?” he asks quietly. “Baby? What’s going on?”

He takes a cautious step closer, but keeps his distance for now. He’s seen Dave have panic attacks before, but they were few and far between when compared with Karkat’s own.

-

Dave doesn't even register Mr. Vantas leaving the room. He's still not...entirely sure where he is. He knows--he thinks he knows--but it...doesn't really feel like he was _here_. It kind of feels like he's floating a bit. It's kind of freaking him the fuck out, but all he can do is stare at nothing and sit and swallow.

It doesn't taste like copper. He swallows again. His throat is tight and thick, but...still nothing. Just spit.

 _\--Baby_?

Dave blinks, and looks up. Karkat. Karkat was here. Karkat left, and he was back now. Dave feels relief wash over him.

If Karkat was here, he was safe. No matter where he was, it didn't matter, if Karkat was there, too. Karkat was safety. Home.

"Karkat..."

His tongue feels kind of numb. It takes a lot of effort to talk, for some reason. Dave manages to get out Karkat's name but...his mind is racing, but nothing else bubbles up to the surface. Karkat left. Now he was back. Karkat was here.

Karkat.

-

“Yeah, baby, it’s me,” Karkat says. Dave’s voice is thick and slow and clumsy, like he isn’t sure how to use his tongue. It sounds hazy and distant. Karkat takes another step forward. 

“I’m gonna sit by you, okay?” he says, advertising his movements as he goes. He sits next to Dave, keeping a good foot of space between them. Dave hardly reacts. Even when he has panic attacks, waking up in the middle of the night gasping, he isn’t like this. Karkat isn’t sure what to do.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asks again. “Did something happen?”

Silence stretches, and Karkat’s worry grows. 

“Dave,” he says, firm but gentle. “You’re safe. You aren’t in danger, no one is mad at you. Do you know where you are?”

-

Karkat keeps talking but Dave isn't really able to process the words. They sound like questions, so Dave should...answer. He doesn't know how to.

He feels the weight on the couch shift as Karkat sits beside him. He asks more questions--

_sweetheart--_

There's no way he's in Houston. He's not. He's--

He presses into his ribs, broken a second ago, he thought, but...fine. He's fine. He swallows again. Still no copper.

His name, said firmly, makes him flinch.

_You're safe._

He's safe. He's not in Houston. He's not on the roof. He knows that, he knows, he knows, he does, it's just--

Another question. He strains to focus on it this time. Where is he?

He's not in Houston. He opens and closes his mouth a few times. He swallows again. No copper.

"Your house," he mumbles.

Wait. Karkat lived in an apartment--

_not that apartment--_

They're on a couch. Not on a roof. He's not in Houston. They're not at Karkat's. This was...

"Your...dad's house." Dave says instead.

-

Dave doesn’t answer right the first time, confirming Karkat’s suspicion. Fuck, okay. He doesn’t know what the fuck set this off; he was only gone for a few minutes. What could have happened in such little time to throw Dave into this state?

“That’s right, baby,” Karkat says quietly. “We’re visiting my dad. We’re in the living room, and he’s in the kitchen. Can I hold your hand?”

There’s a long pause, but Karkat waits it out until Dave nods jerkily. He reaches over slowly and grabs Dave’s hand. Dave immediately clutches his fingers in a vice grip and Karkat determinedly doesn’t wince. His hand is trembling and Karkat rubs slow circles into his hand with his thumb.

“You’re safe, Dave,” he repeats. “We just had dinner. We just--uh--” fuck, now probably isn’t the time to talk about that, “we just came back downstairs. Can you tell me what happened?”

-

Karkat takes Dave's hand and Dave gives it a squeeze, testing it's...realness, he supposes.

It's fleshy and soft and warm. Dave's hands feel cold and clammy in comparison. Karkat doesn't seem to mind, though. He strokes the band of Dave's hand with his thumb. Dave stares down at their hands.

_You're safe._

Karkat says it again.

He's safe.

He's not in Houston.

Karkat runs him through what they've been doing. They're in the living room. They had dinner. What happened after...

_Keep the door open._

Oh.

He closed the door.

"...broke the rule," Dave says.

-

Karkat doesn’t know what the fuck to make of that. He broke a rule? What fucking rule could he have possibly broken? He and Dave had been joking earlier, about getting caught and grounded, but…

But Dave didn’t get grounded when he was growing up, did he? He got slashed with a sword that left raised scars all over his body by a man who was supposed to care about him. Who set arbitrary rules and beat Dave down when he couldn’t follow them.

Fuck. God, what does he say?

“You aren’t in trouble, baby,” he says, scooting a bit closer. He squeezes Dave’s hand. “My dad isn’t mad. I mean he’s probably not _thrilled_ , but he’s not mad, I promise. He won’t hurt you, Dave.”

That doesn’t seem like enough, somehow, so he adds, “Even if he tried, I wouldn’t let him.”

His dad would never hurt Dave, but while Dave might know that logically he doesn’t _know_ it, not the way Karkat does, and certainly not while he’s like this. Hopefully Dave knows that Karkat would protect him, though, whatever it took.

-

_You aren’t in trouble—_

But he broke the rule.

_He’s not mad—_

But why not? Dave didn’t listen.

 _won’t hurt you_ —

He probably never had a reason to hurt Karkat. Karkat was good. Karkat didn’t break the rules. He was responsible, because he was raised by good people.

Not like Dave. Dave broke the rules even when he knew he’d have hell to pay if he got caught.

 _When_ he got caught.

Bro always knew. He always found out. Somehow.

Dave snuck out, anyway. Stayed at the library too late, anyway. Accepted food from kids at lunch who saw he wasn’t eating, anyway.

He just got worse when he got away. Because now there wasn’t pain waiting for it anymore. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted and Bro wasn’t here.

...Bro wasn’t here.

Dave wasn’t in trouble.

Nobody was going to hurt him.

_—but what if—_

_I wouldn’t let him._

That makes Dave perk up. He looks over at Karkat, eyes wide behind his shades. Karkat is looking back at him, expression serious and firm. He isn’t joking. He isn’t lying.

“...Really?” Dave whispers.

Karkat would...protect him?

-

Dave’s vulnerable, hopeful expression breaks Karkat’s heart clean in two. He wants to pull Dave into a back-breaking hug, but he doesn’t want to make this attack worse, so he settles for squeezing Dave’s hand again and giving a wobbly smile.

“Of course, baby,” he says. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not even my dad.”

He isn’t lying. If, by some unthinkable bizarro circumstance, his dad _did_ try to hurt Dave, Karkat would do everything he could to stop him. 

Karkat’s a shit fighter. Despite his size, he wasn’t made for it. He knows how to throw a punch, but all his fights were schoolyard scraps that he lost spectacularly. Dave is undoubtedly a better fighter than he is, but if Karkat has his way Dave won’t ever have to fight anyone again.

“My dad’s never been big on punishments, though,” Karkat says. “Guess he figured having to sit down for an hour and talk about your feelings was punishment enough.”

-

_I won’t let anyone hurt you._

Dave believes him.

There’s nobody in the world he trusts more than Karkat. Dave is pretty sure Karkat’s never been in a fight before, but that doesn’t mean he doubts Karkat’s ability. Karkat was always protecting him in every other way, anyway.

Karkat says that his dad doesn’t punish. That he would sit and talk with his kids instead of hit them.

Dave looks down at their hands. Karkat is still stroking his hand with his thumb.

“...sounds nice,” Dave says softly.

Karkat’s dad was in the kitchen. That’s what Karkat said. Now that his head is getting a bit more clear, he can remember how Mr. Vantas left the room saying he was going to get Karkat. He had walked all the way around the coffee table when it would have been faster to just...walk by Dave.

He remembers how Karkat had approached the couch, slow and careful like he was coming up to a scared animal.

Dave...worried them.

He shrinks a little bit as shame washes over him.

“...M’sorry.” Dave mumbles.

-

Fuck, god, Karkat can’t take this anymore. He reaches out--slowly, still careful--and wraps an arm around Dave’s shoulder, scooching so that he’s pressed against Dave’s side. It’s not an embrace; Dave has a wide open area he can flee to if he needs it, and Karkat won’t begrudge him if he does.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to Dave’s hair. It smells like Karkat’s vanilla conditioner and a trace of strawberry lube. God dammit.

“What do you need, babe?” Karkat asks quietly. It’s something he asks whenever Dave calms down from a panic attack or nightmare. It took a few times of Dave shaking his head for Karkat to sit him down outside of the panic and tell him anything he asked for was okay, whether it was cuddles or space or water or a blanket. It took even longer for Dave to ask him for something. “What can I do for you? Do you want to head home?”

Karkat would be slightly disappointed, since he so rarely comes out to see his dad, but they could always come visit again. And next time they won’t fuck in Karkat’s old bedroom and Karkat won’t leave Dave alone with his dad.

-

Dave quickly shakes his head no when Karkat offers to go home. No, no, he doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to ruin this any more than he already has. Karkat says he’s got nothing to feel sorry for, but...

He’s not really sure what just happened, exactly. But he knows it wasn’t exactly normal to just...suddenly think you’re on a roof in Texas with a broken rib when you’re actually just standing in your hopefully-still-future-father-in-law’s living room.

What he saw wasn’t real. What he felt wasn’t real. Just a memory. Just as vivid as when he dreamed, but...this time he’d been awake. What did that mean?

He thought the nightmares were getting better, thanks to Karkat. Now he was going to have them even when he wasn’t sleeping? What the fuck?

Karkat is asking what Dave needs. Karkat told him before Dave could ask for anything, but Dave doesn’t think Karkat could give him answers. What else did he need?

He needed...Karkat. But Karkat was already here. He squeezes Karkat’s hand, just to make sure. Yep. Still here.

“I want...” Dave’s voice cracks, and he licks his lips. They’re so dry. He swallows, and tries again, “...to look at photos.”

-

“Really determined to see babyKat, huh?” Karkat says, trying to lighten the mood, going as far as using the stupid nickname Dave kept saying. “Okay, we can do that.”

For a moment he considers calling his dad back into the room, then quickly discards the idea. Dave doesn’t like being vulnerable in front of people, and even though he’s calming down he’s still not recovered. So Karkat leans over to pluck a book off the table, immediately crowding back to Dave’s side once it’s in his hands.

He places it balanced between their thighs, flipping it open. The very first image is of his mother in the hospital, holding a swaddled baby and looking exhausted. Immediately beneath that is a close up picture of his weird alien-esque baby face, eyes closed, with his birthday written next to it in loopy handwriting.

“Look,” he says, pointing. “I told you I was an ugly baby.”

-

Karkat leans over to grab a book without letting go of Dave’s hand. Dave isn’t sure he would have let Karkat go if he’d tried.

A photo album is placed on their laps and Karkat flips it open, and there’s Karkat’s mom in a hospital bed. Dave’s heart gives an alarmed lurch, thinking that this was taken when she was sick and fuck Karkat wouldn’t want to see this—but then he spots the bundle in her arms.

Karkat points to it and Dave looks a little closer. A little face pokes out of the blankets, red and blotchy and scrunched up with a little grimace. Like being taken out of his mother’s womb had been a great disservice, and he wanted to lodge a complaint with the hospital.

Dave wonders what he looked like as a baby. He supposed he would never know. Did he look red and grumpy, too?

“More,” Dave says, squeezing Karkat’s hand.

-

Dave stares quietly at the photo for awhile, and when he says to, Karkat obediently flips the page. This one has a certificate of his birth and tiny footprints inked onto a card. Karkat doesn’t know why they do that. 

On the page opposite there’s a picture of his dad, dead asleep, with baby Karkat drooling on his shoulder. Below that, a picture of him in a tiny suit with his thick curls already starting to form. It’s a professional photo, and he’s glaring at the camera like it personally wronged him. Next to the picture is written ‘6 months!’ Karkat snorts.

“I always hated having my picture taken,” Karkat says. “Dad says I was a fucking nightmare child, even before mom died.”

-

A birth certificate. Dave had one of those, surprisingly enough.

His brother kept it in a metal tin, in his room. Dave was never allowed in there. He had to ask his brother for it before he left. He got a piece of paper with a social insurance number, and a birth certificate. It had four folds creased into it like it had been folded up and tucked away in a wallet for years. Not pressed into a photo album with love and care.

There’s another picture of Mr. Vantas, two decades younger, father and infant son fast asleep. And then a very grumpy Karkat in a little suit, the telltale signs of his trademark curls already coming in.

Dave pokes the grumpy Karkat picture like he’s poking him on the cheek. Then he leans over and rests his cheek on Karkat’s shoulder.

“You were a cute baby,” Dave says. “It’s why they took so many pictures.”

-

Karkat rolls his eyes, but his shoulders untense as Dave leans against him.

“Nah, I was an ugly little gremlin,” he insists, flipping the page. He points to the next one. “Look at that. What an asshole.”

The next series of pictures are of Karkat’s first birthday party. The one he’s pointing to has his tiny baby face covered with cake, his dad a blur in the background as he realizes that baby Karkat is destroying the cake before they’ve even put the candles on. His mother’s face is frozen with laughter while Kankri sits to the side with wide eyes.

He flips the page, his life unfolding in pictures. His first tooth, him sprawled out on the floor throwing a tantrum while his mother tries to bribe him to stop crying with a piece of candy, Kankri holding him at arm's length looking like he smelled something terrible, his father holding him upside down by the feet while he laughs and Karkat looks disgruntled.

There really are very few photos of him smiling, Karkat realizes. 

-

Dave manages a little breath of air out of his nose as he looks at the pictures. He wants to laugh, but his body feels really...heavy. He feels like he’s using Karkat right now, leaning against him so he can carry some of this weight Dave is carrying. 

Looks like Karkat was always a little grouch, even as a kid. Karkat smiled a lot when he was around Dave...and that was it. Karkat was his constant grouchy self otherwise, the moment anyone else was around. 

It made Dave’s heart squeeze to think that he had that kind of effect on Karkat. Not even his family could make him smile, but Dave did. Dave made Karkat happy. Even though Dave inconvenienced him all the time, from the very first moment they met. 

Karkat didn’t seem to mind. He only ever scowled at Dave when Dave was trying to get him annoyed on purpose. Because Karkat was cute when he was grumpy. But he was cuter when he smiled. Thankfully that wasn’t too hard for Dave to do. He actually had to try pretty hard to get Karkat to scowl. It was a lot less work getting him to smile. 

“We need to take more pictures.” Dave says suddenly.

-

“Ugh,” Karkat says immediately, face pinching into a scowl. “Of you, maybe. My face isn’t meant to be on camera.”

Dave is gorgeous and photogenic. Karkat looks like a troll. He _might_ be persuaded to take one or two couple-y pictures, but only for the purpose of replacing his phone’s wallpaper, which is currently the selfie he’d sent to his friends at the bookstore that Dave photobombed all those weeks ago.

He flips another page, getting solidly into the toddler years. There’s a picture of Karkat wrecking his mother’s blanket fort, tangled up in the sheet while his mom looks on with an exasperatedly fond expression. Karkat asleep, curled up around a giant dog he has no memory of. A picture of his father with his head in his hands and Karkat’s first smile thus far, next to the words ‘baby’s first swear! (it was fuck)’.

-

Karkat flips through a few more pictures until they finally get to one where Karkat is smiling. Mr. Vantas looks very defeated. Dave reads the loopy handwriting, and then a laugh finally breaks out of him, a surprised little burst that comes out louder than he anticipated and makes his chest shake.

“BabyKat is a total badass,” Dave says, smile still pulling his lips.

-

Dave’s laugh surprises him, stretching a grin across his face. He turns his head to drop another kiss to Dave’s hair, rubbing his hand up and down his shoulder a few times before returning his attention to the photo album.

“BabyKat was a monster,” Karkat corrects, turning another page.

Another slew of images. Karkat holding a broken toy and crying like it was the end of the world, Kankri awkwardly patting him on the head. His mom and dad trading a kiss over breakfast while Karkat and Kankri screw up their faces, a photo a friend must have taken. Christmases and birthdays, his first bike ride, his first fall from the bike, his first missing tooth due to falling from the bike. 

Then he turns the page and it’s a picture of him, clearly older than in the last, standing next to a hospital bed with a shaved head while his mother hugs him, a bright smile on her face and tears in her eyes. Karkat winces, feeling a pang in his chest.

“I bribed Kankri to shave my head when dad was at work,” he explains. He’d overheard his mom talking about losing her hair, anxiety in her voice, and it seemed like the only obvious solution, even though it hadn’t actually done anything. “Not a good look for me.”

-

Karkat flips through more pictures, and Dave feels himself coming more and more back to earth as he looks through each one.

He remembers Mr. Vantas’ words from earlier. That Dave was practically family already.

If there was any kind of family Dave would want to be a part of, it was this one.

Karkat turns the page and there’s another hospital bed, only this time Karkat’s mom really is sick for this one. Karkat’s standing next to her bed, his head shaved. Dave’s heart sinks, and he looks up to see Karkat wincing at the picture.

Karkat’s heart was so big, doing that for his mom. The smile on her face said it all—she really appreciated it, obviously it touched her to see her baby boy do that for her.

Dave turns his head to kiss Karkat’s shoulder. “You looked great.”

-

Karkat shrugs lightly. 

“I think this is around the time I started actively avoiding cameras,” he says. “I’d pose with my mom, but otherwise the second a camera came out I fucking teleported across the room.”

Indeed, what follows are pictures of Karkat posing with his mom, who’s smile doesn’t change even as her health deteriorates. Interspersed are a few candids of Karkat, playing a video game or reading a book, and one where he has a hand in front of his face, clearly hiding from the camera. But overall the pictures grow sparser, and there’s a long gap between the last picture of Karkat’s mom and his 6th grade yearbook photo.

“The rest are mostly just school pictures,” Karkat says, flipping through them with distaste as his aging face scowls back at him from the pages. “Then graduation ones. Pretty boring. I never really had an embarrassing phase I went through or anything besides just my entire life as a whole.”

Kankri’s photo album has a lot more pictures, because he was the first born and also didn’t avoid cameras like the plague once their mom died.

-

Sure enough, Karkat starts avoiding the camera after that picture. Other than a few pictures with his mom, the only time he’s in a photo is when he doesn’t know he’s _in_ the picture. Dave smiles fondly at a picture of Karkat curled up on the couch, his cheek smushed into his hand and his brow furrowed with concentration as he reads a book. Karkat still gets into the same position to read a book—Dave’s seen him do it several times on the couch back at his apartment.

Karkat’s mom stops showing up in the album, and Karkat keeps growing up. And he keeps not smiling at the camera.

“Were your parents soulmates?” Dave asks.

-

Karkat flips the photo album shut and sets it back on the table.

“Yeah,” he says. “My mom ran into my dad on a train and got his number, and they spent a few days talking on the phone before their words showed up. They got married a couple years later and had Kankri.”

He smiles softly, leaning against Dave. “When I was growing up they were so fucking sappy all the time. Mom used to take us out on picnics and make my dad dance with her barefoot in the grass even though he’s shit at dancing. I’m pretty sure that they’re where I got my love of romance. I wanted that for myself.”

He presses his lips to Dave’s temple, then his cheekbone.

“I was kind of losing hope until I met you,” he says, feeling his cheeks heat up.

-

Dave closes his eyes as Karkat’s warm lips press against his temple and his cheekbone.

So Karkat’s mother and father had been soulmates. It looked like Mrs. Vantas was really young when she got sick. Karkat was still just a kid at the time. Which meant she only had...a little over a decade, maybe, of a happy life with her soulmate and their children before she passed away.

Dave knew having a soulmate didn’t suddenly make you immortal, impenetrable. People still died of sickness and old age and accidents everyday, whether they found their soulmate or not.

Maybe his Bro did have a soulmate out there, but they died before Bro could ever meet them. That’s why he never got any words.

What if Karkat got sick? What if Dave got into another dumb accident?

It wasn’t fair. Mrs. Vantas seemed like she’d been a really nice lady. She clearly loved her husband and her children, but she didn’t get to grow old with her soulmate and watch her boys grow up and find soulmates of their own. Dave would never get to meet her. Mr. Vantas would have to live out the rest of his days knowing the person meant for him was already gone.

Dave didn’t want that. He didn’t want to lose Karkat. He wanted to be with Karkat for the rest of his life.

And life was so short. It was stupid to be spending a single moment, living in fear. Feeling things that weren’t real. Karkat was here, and that’s all that mattered.

Dave lifts his head off of Karkat’s shoulder, and Karkat looks at him curiously as Dave stares at him, intense gaze hidden by his shades. Then Dave leans forward and presses his lips to Karkat’s.

They needed to take all kinds of pictures. Dave needed to kiss him as many times as he could. Love Karkat as fiercely as possible.

Because it could all be taken away from him when he least expected it.

-

Dave is quiet for awhile, and Karkat doesn’t interrupt the silence, content to let Dave think or relax or whatever he’s doing. But Dave doesn’t say anything, only sits up to give Karkat a look he can’t quite read, then leans in to kiss Karkat firmly on the lips.

Karkat’s hand comes up automatically to cup Dave’s face, his eyes sliding shut. He doesn’t know what brought this on, but he isn’t complaining. He’ll never complain when Dave kisses him; it sends a fuzzy warmth through his veins, a tingling that stretches to his fingers and toes and makes his stomach swoop pleasantly.

He keeps his eyes closed for a moment after Dave pulls away, still feeling the ghost of lips against his own, and sighs quietly when he blinks his eyes open.

“Dave?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

Dave seems to be doing better, but Karkat isn’t a mind reader. He swipes his thumb along Dave’s cheek. He’ll have to look up dissociative episodes and ptsd flashbacks later, so he can be sure he knows what he’s talking about when he explains it to Dave. He’s probably really fucking confused, but Karkat doesn’t want to overwhelm him with something when he doesn’t have the answers Dave needs.

-

Karkat presses into kiss, their lips melting together effortlessly, and Dave lets out a soft sigh as Karkat gently cups his cheek.

He loves Karkat so much it aches. He doesn’t care whether he has Karkat’s words or not, he’s marrying Karkat as soon as possible. Dave never wants to waste another moment, and he wants to spend as many of them as he can at Karkat’s side. For as long as Karkat wants him.

Dave pulls away from the kiss, and Karkat asks if he’s okay. He still feels a bit frazzled from...whatever that episode he had was, but he’s feeling calmer now, thanks to Karkat. He still doesn’t quite feel like his usual self, but kissing Karkat certainly makes him feel close.

“Yeah, baby. I’m okay. Thanks to you,” Dave says, leaning forward to bump their noses together. “Always protectin’ me. Love you, Kat.”

-

Karkat smiles, relieved, and rubs the tips of their noses together. 

“I love you too, baby,” he says quietly, reaching up to card his fingers through Dave’s hair. “‘M glad you’re okay.”

Feeling emboldened by Dave’s reaction, Karat releases him, only to wrap his hands around Dave’s waist and tug him into his lap. He buries his face in Dave’s neck and squeezes him tight, like he’d wanted to do before, so hard Dave lets out a little _oof_ of air before Karkat loosens his grip.

“No one’s gonna hurt you, Dave,” he promises, words mumbled into Dave’s neck. He’s not sure if Dave can hear them, but that’s alright. Karkat will make sure he knows, every day, that he’s safe and loved, as much as a person can be.

-

Karkat smiles, which makes Dave’s stomach do a backflip because it lights up Karkat’s whole face and it’s the prettiest sight in the world.

Karkat pulls Dave into his lap and Dave goes gladly, giving a pleased hum that eventually turns into a wheezed out oof when Karkat squeezes him tight enough to knock the wind from his lungs. Karkat lets his grip loosen, but thankfully only by a little. Dave tucks his own face into Karkat’s neck, mimicking his boyfriend.

“I know,” Dave says, nuzzling in deeper. “Not when my big man is around.”

-

Karkat’s shoulders shake with laughter at Dave’s words. He hated when he was small and hates that he’s so big, but Dave makes him feel like it’s a good thing, weirdly enough. It’s the exact opposite of what he’s used to and it’s _sweet_ , like candy on his tongue. 

He presses kisses to Dave’s throat, everywhere he can reach, rubbing his hands up and down Dave’s back.

“Can I call my dad back in here?” Karkat asks after a moment. “He was worried about you.”

He’ll probably be disappointed that he wasn’t able to show off Karkat’s old baby pictures, which is something he’s never been able to do before, but there are still a few photos of Karkat tucked away in the other albums he pulled out, if he’s really that desperate. And Dave is so sweetly awkward he might not even have the heart to tell Karkat’s dad they already looked through the album in the first place.


	15. Chapter 15

Karkat’s laugh feels like honey being poured straight into Dave’s ears. His whole body feels light and fluffy at the sound, and he peppers little kisses wherever he can reach as Karkat kisses at his throat.

Karkat asks about his dad, and suddenly Dave remembers he’d been waiting in the kitchen. Dave feels bad for basically kicking the man out of his own living room because of his weird freakout.

Dave pulls away and gives Karkat a little nod. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

-

Dave is much more relaxed, obviously, and Karkat pulls back to give him a final peck on the nose before reluctantly nudging Dave off his lap. They’re still pressed side by side, and Karkat slings an arm around Dave’s shoulder before he calls out, “hey, dad!”

“One second!” is the reply, and a few moments later his dad comes into the living room, eyebrows raised. 

“I was packing up the leftovers for you boys. I’m just about done,” he says. He looks at Dave searchingly, gaze sweeping from his head to his feet, and he nods, satisfied. “You okay, kid?”

-

Dave presses against Karkat a bit more, trying to be subtle about it by making it seem like he’s just shifting in his seat a little. His cheeks burn up watching Mr. Vantas openly scan him from head to toe.

He gives Mr. Vantas a quick nod. “Y-yeah. I’m better now,” he says.

Dave feels like crawling under Karkat’s shirt to hide, he’s so fucking embarrassed. But doing something that stupid would be even more embarrassing. Dave shuffles a little closer to Karkat instead. At this rate he was going to crawl right back into his lap.

-

Karkat tries his best to radiate stability and reassurance as Dave squirms under his dad’s gaze like a kid just caught stealing. He’s likely embarrassed, even though he shouldn’t be, and Karkat knows his dad won’t hold it against him. Karkat had… issues, after his mother died, and though his panic attacks are more frantic and frenetic than Dave’s, they’re just as out of his control. 

His dad nods again, walking across the room to sit in his chair.

“Good,” he says. “You’ll have to let me know what set you off so I can avoid it in the future.”

Dave goes still under his arm and Karkat gives his dad a rare smile. Well, rare for him. Karkat smiles at Dave all the time. It’s harder _not_ to smile at Dave than to keep a neutral expression, but thus far he’s the only exception to the rule.

-

Dave ducks his chin and plays at a frayed piece of tape on his cast.

“Um...I guess I just expected to...get in more shit,” Dave mumbles.

He can feel Karkat and his dad both looking at him. Dave picks a little more insistently on the frayed tape.

“...I don’t really know what happened.”

He doesn’t want to talk about the...vision he had. The memory. It wasn’t normal for shit like that to happen and the last thing he needed was Karkat and his dad thinking he was batshit crazy.

-

His dad’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and Karkat chews on his lip. He doesn’t want to air Dave’s trauma out in the open like this, but he knows his dad won’t stop asking questions until Dave’s been emotionally exhausted. So he steps in.

“Dave had a flashback,” he says, giving his dad a stern look, clearly saying _don’t push this_. “He has PTSD. He’s okay now.”

Honestly, until today, Karkat wasn’t even aware how bad Dave’s PTSD is. He has nightmares, sometimes, but his panic attacks in waking life are nearly non-existent. Dave seemed like he was mostly healed from his trauma, for the most part, beyond some bad habits and poor self-worth. It would make sense, Karkat supposes, since his issues stem from a father figure and there hasn’t exactly been a lot of those around.

He just wishes he was able to predict this and head it off.

To his credit, his dad doesn’t ask anymore questions about it. His face clears, sympathy filling his eyes, and he gives a sharp nod.

-

Karkat says _flashback_ and _PTSD_ and Dave stops picking at his cast and looks up at Mr. Vantas, then at Karkat, then back down.

He doesn’t pick at his cast, just runs his thumb along the word ‘concussion’ written in black sharpie.

Wasn’t PTSD for like...people who were in the army and shit? People who had really traumatic experiences like watching people die, or something.

Dave stays quiet, deciding not to argue about it. Maybe Karkat was just saying it so his dad wouldn’t keep asking questions Dave didn’t know how to answer. Even if what he said wasn’t entirely true.

“You said we could look at baby pictures?” Dave asks, looking up at Mr. Vantas hopefully.

He desperately wants to focus on something else.

-

His dad’s face breaks out into a grin and Karkat groans dramatically. Having to flip through his baby pictures again, this time with commentary, isn’t exactly what he was hoping for. But if it makes Dave happy, he’ll do it. He leans back against the couch, sulking, and his father joins them, reaching out for Karkat’s baby album and plopping it into Karkat’s lap.

His father immediately launches into a retelling of the day Karkat was born and how the picture was taken hours later, because Karkat just wouldn’t stop fucking screaming. Karkat rolls his eyes to the ceiling and prays for death.

-

Mr. Vantas adds so much more context to every picture, and Dave listens with rapt attention as he speaks, Dave and Karkat’s dad both actively ignoring the humiliated boy sitting in between them as they go through the same photo album all over again.

“You know instead of doing ‘say cheese’ you should have been like ‘say fuck’ because apparently that’s the only way to get this dingus to crack a smile for a photo,” Dave says, knocking his knuckles against Karkat’s chest.

-

His dad laughs. Karkat’s pout deepens.

“He was actually a pretty smiley baby, between the screaming fits,” his dad says, like he’s telling Dave a secret. “He just always had a knack for knowing when the camera came out.”

He taps the picture of a smiling baby Karkat and says, “This little jackass said nothing but ‘fuck’ for two weeks straight and laughed about it every damn time, but this is the only picture we managed to snap of it. I think Claudia tipped him off somehow, because she cackled every fucking time.”

At this, Karkat’s lips twitch up slightly. It aches, but he loves hearing stories about his mom. It’s not often his dad is up to telling them. 

-

“I mean, I don’t blame her. If my kid said a swear word I’d be dyin’ laughing, too.” Dave says, nudging Karkat a little when he sees the tiniest smile pull his lips at the mention of his mother’s name.

“I have tried to sneak a pic so many times,” Dave says with a sigh. “He always knows when I’m doing it, though.”

Dave has actually managed to get a few good candid shots. But he will take that to the grave. If Karkat knew about them he’d never hear the end of it.

-

Karkat has looked up to find Dave ‘casually’ pointing his phone at him too damn often, and goes out of his way to ruin the shot, either by covering his face or snatching the phone out of Dave’s hand to delete the picture he already took. The worst part is that if Dave asked, Karkat would probably fold like tissue paper after maybe a minute of his pleading expression, and grumpily pose for whatever shot Dave wanted. But he wants ‘candids’ for some god awful reason.

“She encouraged his terrible behavior so damn much,” his dad laughs. “Probably why she was his favorite.”

He turns the page, telling the story of Karkat’s first tooth and how he kept them up for three nights straight when it came in. Then, for some reason, the story of how Kankri lost his tooth when they were climbing a tall shelf and fell, and the story they cooked up about a spider climbing into his mouth and stealing it.

“It seemed reasonable at the time,” Karkat says.

God, his dad can go on forever with the embarrassing childhood stories. At least Dave is enjoying himself.

-

Dave listens as Mr. Vantas tells the story of his sons losing their teeth. Obviously Dave doesn’t remember anything about his baby teeth, but since he’s got a full mouth of adult teeth he assumes they must have all fallen out at one point.

He does remember when his adult teeth were coming in, though. Bro knocked out one of his loose teeth during a strife, but Dave figures that wasn’t exactly the best story to tell. He strains his brain to think of another one.

“I did the classic ‘tie some floss around it and shut the door’ trick, on this tooth right here,” Dave bares his teeth and points to his canine. “It was bugging me for days and I didn’t know how to get it out so I Googled it, and that was what came up. It worked but it was bloody as fuck.”

-

Karkat grimaces as his dad nods.

“Ah, a classic,” his dad says. “I did something similar when I was young, except we tied it to my cousin’s bike handle and told him to pedal.”

Karkat’s grimace turns into incredulousness as he stares at his father.

“What the fuck? _Why_?” he demands.

“It seemed reasonable at the time,” his father replies, because he’s an asshole. Karkat scowls and his dad reaches over to ruffle his hair. “‘Kat here isn’t a fan of blood. The first time he saw me cut a finger while cooking he started crying and told me to ‘put it back’.”

Karkat uses his free hand to swat his dad’s arm away, scowling, and tries to fix the damage done to his already unruly hair. It’s no use and he’s well aware of that.

“Don’t call me that,” he commands grouchily.

-

Karkat shoves his dad’s hands away from his hair and grumpily tells him to not call him Kat. Dave plays with Karkat’s hair and calls him Kat all the time, but Karkat never complains about it.

So it wasn’t just Karkat’s smile Dave had power over, it would seem.

“I don’t like blood, either,” Dave says with a little shrug.

He reaches up to fix a couple of Karkat’s extra unruly curls that his dad had made go frizzy with his hair ruffling. Then Dave slides his hand down Karkat’s back and rests it at the small of his back, giving it a little scratch with his nails as he presses against Karkat a little more.

He’s not really sure if he’s doing all of this for Karkat’s benefit or his own, at this point. Dave is still feeling a bit shaken up, frazzled and frayed at the ends like the tape on his cast.

As much as he’s enjoying going through the pictures with Mr. Vantas, Dave is also looking forward to getting back home. He feels really...tired. He just wants to lay in bed or on the couch with Karkat and not move for a few hours. Maybe he could ask Karkat for a head rub?

-

Dave reaches up and gently fixes his hair and Karkat’s scowl softens. He leans into Dave’s touch subconsciously, glancing at his boyfriend with a small smile and when he looks back his dad has his eyebrows raised. Karkat makes a face at him.

“How are you boys feeling?” his dad asks, looking back down at the photo album for a moment. “It’s getting a bit late. You’re welcome to stay the night, of course, but if you don’t wanna be driving too late you should get going soon.”

Karkat nods. “What do you think, babe? Ready to go home? Or do you want to keep embarrassing me?”

Dave seems a bit tired, but if he wants to stick around and hear more of his dad’s dumb stories Karkat won’t protest. 

-

“That sounds awfully tempting,” Dave says lightly, nudging against Karkat a little and also maybe leaning just a bit more of his weight against him in the process.

“But, I am kinda tired, and you got a long drive ahead of you,” Dave says, picking at some loose fluff on Karkat’s pants. “And we made all that room in the fridge so we can Tetris the leftovers in there so we better get back before Egbert fucks it up. I had a system, yo.”

-

“He is spectacularly good at fucking things up,” Karkat sighs.

They get up, Karkat switching the arm around Dave’s shoulder to his waist. It hasn’t gone unnoticed how much Dave has been leaning on him. 

The kitchen is covered in tupperware containers that his dad gleefully shoves into his arms. It takes a few trips back and forth, and by the time they’ve got everything the floor and backseats are covered with containers of leftover homemade food. Karkat gives his dad a bear hug and gets another hair ruffling in return.

“I’m proud of you,” his dad tells him. “And get that boy into therapy. It helped you, remember?”

Karkat nods. He’ll float the idea by Dave; he hadn’t brought it up before because it seemed like Dave was pretty fucking okay, but apparently he has shit he needs to deal with.

He stands to the side as his dad shakes Dave’s hand again. Karkat can tell he’s holding himself back from pulling Dave into a hug and he’s grateful.

“It was nice to meet you, Dave,” his dad says. “You’ll have to come back soon. I’ve got plenty more stories about Karkat to tell you.”

-

When they get up from the couch, Karkat moves his arm from Dave’s shoulder to his waist as they follow Mr. Vantas into the kitchen.

Karkat has to disentangle from Dave to carry out all the containers to the car. They are definitely going to have to freeze most of this, it’s a good thing Dave made room in the freezer, too.

Dave shuts the driver side rear door once all the food has been packed up, then turns and smiles when he sees Karkat and his dad hug. Dave watches with a bit of a longing pang before he realizes that watching them hug it out was probably fucking weird, so he turns and leans against the car, shoving his hand into his pocket and kicking around some stones on the pavement.

Mr. Vantas comes over and holds out his hand, so Dave quickly pulls his hand out of his pocket and takes his hand. Mr. Vantas gives it a gentle squeeze and shakes it firmly.

“It was nice to meet you, too, si—“ Dave hesitates only for a moment before he smiles brightly and corrects himself, “Stefan.”

-

This, it seems, is too much for his father, who yanks Dave into a quick, light hug before pulling back and ruffling his hair. Karkat grimaces, unsure how Dave will react to this after just having a fucking PTSD flashback in the living room. His dad means well, but jesus.

“You’re a good kid, Dave,” he says. “Make sure Karkat eats more than just shitty processed food, okay?”

Karkat groans. “ _Dad_ , I’m not fifteen anymore. I know how to take care of myself.”

His dad gives him a doubtful look, then nods purposefully at Dave. Karkat sighs. He definitely inherited his food snobbery from his dad.

-

Stefan pulls Dave in for a quick one-armed hug, which—

Well, it definitely takes Dave by surprise. He’s never been hugged by an older man like this before, either. It’s...

Really fucking nice, actually. Mr. Vantas uses some kind of cologne or body wash that has a really calming scent, and his arm is big and heavy on Dave’s shoulders. It’s like it pushes more firmly down into the ground, correcting his centre of gravity.

The hug is over as quick as it came, and then Stefan is pulling away and ruffles Dave’s hair like he’s down to Karkat twice now.

Oh.

Why did Karkat push his dad’s hand away when he did this? It felt so...nice.

Stefan tells Dave he’s a good kid, and to make sure Karkat eats right. This causes a groan of protest from Karkat, who Stefan gives a look of a man who doesn’t believe a word his son says to be gospel for a minute.

Stefan looks back over at Dave and Dave returns his nod, his jaw set firmly.

“I’ll take care of him,” Dave promises.

-

"Oh my god," Karkat mutters. He should have known this would happen. He'll have to make sure Dave doesn't get his dad's number or else they'll team up and nag him until the sun goes dark.

"Let's go, babe," Karkat says, opening the car door. "I'll text you when we're home, dad."

"Drive safe, kiddo," his dad says, standing back and watching as they clamber into the car, a small pile of leftovers on Dave's lap. He waves as they drive off and Karkat rolls his eyes fondly before glancing at Dave.

"You okay?" He asks. Dave didn't freak out at the hug, which is a good sign, but Karkat can't help but worry. Dave hadn't said anything when Karkat brought up PTSD before, but he's not sure if he just didn't want to talk about it in front of his dad.

-

Dave almost defaults to his usual 'yeah babe I'm totally fine', but considering what just went down he seriously doubts Karkat was about to buy it. Karkat's been giving him that Look that was clearly one of worry, but trying to hide just how worried he actually was behind a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Karkat told his dad that Dave had a flashback. That Dave had PTSD. Karkat's never mentioned anything like that before, and it's not like Dave had ever brought it up himself. He's still not really sure what the hell happened to him, and his mind and body were still reeling from the aftermath. It never took him this long to get over even the worst of his nightmares. It's starting to freak him out a little.

"I...okay, baby, don't get me wrong. I had a great time, your dad is awesome, the food was great, the sex was impeccable as always, natch--" Dave makes even more hand motions than he normally does as he speaks a mile a minute, trying to get this nervous energy the fuck out, "But then I got all in my head about the fact your dad wasn't mad at us, mainly me, for not doing what he asked. And I mean, like, that's because he's a super cool and understanding dude, I get that, but--but I dunno...my brain just kind of freaked out anyway?"

Dave sets the food containers on the mat under his feet--it was going to be way too difficult to keep them in his lap for the next two hours.

"And now I kind of just feel like taffy that's been stretched really thin, like the confectioneer or whatever the fuck they're called is still green in the gills and he got left to his own devices in the taffy factory and he doesn't know what the hell he's doing so he just overworks that candy way too fuckin' much and now it's all shapeless and wirey and fragile and...okay, I kind of let that one derail a bit. The point is my whole body aches and I could really rock a nap right now."

-

Karkat chews his lip as Dave talks, guilt growing with every word. Dave says Karkat protects him but so far all it seems like he's done is fuck up.

"I don't know a whole lot about PTSD and flashbacks," he admits, turning a corner. "I was going to do some research about it before talking to you. But that doesn't surprise me. Shit must be exhausting. Why don't you take a nap while I drive? I'll wake you up when we get home."

Karkat wishes they were home already and he could pull Dave against him and hold him through the night, or have him lay down in his stomach with his cast hanging over the side of the bed while Karkat rubs tension from his muscles until he falls asleep. But they have a two hour drive ahead of them, and that will have to wait.

-

"Nah, I wanna keep you company," Dave protests, "Besides, it won't be the same. Like yeah I'm tired and achey, but...I don't think I can nap right now. Not in the car. Not withou--"

Dave pauses. He really shouldn't feel embarrassed about it, he knows Karkat wouldn't mind. That Karkat wouldn't think he's being clingy or weird or childish. But his ears still burn red anyway, and he scratches at his reddening cheek a little as he squirms a bit in his seat.

"...Not...not without you holding me."

-

His heart clenches at Dave's words. Karkat can't sleep without Dave next to him, arm wrapped around him and heartbeat in his ear, but it's... nice to hear that Dave finds solace in his arms, too. Not that he doubted it, but it's bolstering to hear. Karkat reaches out, squeezing Dave's knee.

"Alright, baby," he says. "Why don't you put some of your music on? When we get home you can lay down while I shove all this shit in the freezer and I'll hold you all you want when I'm done."

He wishes he had words to explain how fucking happy Dave makes him, how he wants to spend every second of every day with him. How Dave makes even the shittiest day a good one, and that Karkat wants to be able to do the same for him. But until he finds the right way to say it, he'll have to let his actions speak for him.

-

“Sure,” Dave says with a smile, digging into his pocket to pull out his phone.

He plugs the phone into the aux and throws on a playlist of some of his own mixes. A bunch of instrumental, soft stuff. It’s about all he can handle at the moment, he’s kind of in a mellow mood.

He’s got his sketchpad in the backseat; he brought it for the ride but he and Karkat wound up chatting the whole way there. But he’s feeling antsy, and drawing always helps his brain calm down and focus. Dave twists around to pluck his sketch pad off the floor in the backseat (he’d had to make room for all the food).

He hikes his legs up onto the seat as he flips the sketchbook open, resting the book on his bent knees and his cast. Dave’s gotten pretty used to drawing with the cast on, so he’s able to settle into this position fairly easily.

Dave slips the pencil out from the coil spine of the sketchpad and gets to work. With his shades on, and the way he’s twisted in the seat, Karkat shouldn’t be able to notice that Dave isn’t just up to his usual SBAHJ bullshit. That stuff doesn’t really require much focus. In order for him to really settle his brain down, he actually needs to put some effort in for once.

So he peeks over the top of his sketchpad and sketches Karkat’s profile as he drives down the highway.

-

The drive is spent with little chatter. Karkat listens to the music as Dave sketches--probably his impressively shitty comic--and focuses on the road. One of them will occasionally make a comment about something, but mostly it’s quiet. Despite how verbose both of them usually are, it’s nice to sit in silence with each other every so often.

Eventually they make it back to Dave’s apartment. Karkat lets Dave help with one trip, loading his single arm with as many leftovers as he can carry, and then tells him to go lay down and bangs on John’s door until he comes to help.

John is fucking terrible at putting the food away, so once everything’s brought up Karkat shoos him out of the kitchen and shoves as much as he can into the fridge and freezer. Tomorrow he’ll go through everything and pack individual containers for his idiot friends; he memorized their favorites a long time ago. Dave will have to help with the ones for _his_ friends, though.

Finally, after too long, Karkat is able to retire to Dave’s bedroom--their bedroom?--to find Dave laying on the bed, shades off, looking fucking exhausted and wrung out. Karkat strips quickly to boxers and climbs in next to him, curling around his boyfriend’s body and throwing an arm over his chest.

“Hey,” he says.

-

Once they get close to home Dave flips his sketchbook shut so that Karkat can't sneak a peek. They get as much food inside as they can with one trip, but there's still more containers left in the car. Karkat shoos Dave away, ushering Dave off to the bedroom while he enlists John's assistance with the rest.

Dave doesn't even have the energy to strip down, or even get under the covers. He just flops down on his back with a grateful sigh, eventually pulling off his shades and setting them aside. He closes his eyes, but sleep doesn't come to him. Dave wasn't just being a sap earlier--he truly won't be able to relax until Karkat was here.

He isn't kept waiting too long. At least, he doesn't think so. He's not sure how long his eyes have been closed but eventually he hears Karkat come into the room. Dave manages to pry one eye open--he may be tired but he wasn't missing Karkat stripping for the world.

Karkat, clad only in boxers (yummm) climbs in next to Dave and curls his warm body around him, his large arm coming over Dave's chest, a solid and comforting weight that tethers him down to the mattress.

"Hiya, handsome," Dave murmurs, his one eye still peeking open to look at Karkat as he gives him a sleepy smile. "My Karkat supplies are runnin' real low. Gonna need to fuel up."

-

Dave calling him handsome still manages to make him blush, and he rubs his cheek against Dave’s shirt like that will somehow get rid of the redness there.

“Can’t fucking have that,” he grumbles. 

As much as Karkat would like to just lay here and fall asleep, there are still things to do. First off, getting Dave out of his clothes. He pushes himself up and tugs Dave into a sitting position with absolutely no help from his boyfriend, who lets his limbs go limp and flop all over the place. Karkat laughs, fighting to get his shirt over his head and off his cast, then undoes his jeans and pulls them down. 

He loves stripping his boyfriend but this time it’s much more silly than sexy. When Dave is down to his boxers, arm and legs thrown out across the bed uselessly, Karkat leans over him and presses a long kiss to his lips, a small smile on his face.

“You’re no goddamn help at all,” he tells Dave. “Do you want a backrub, a scalp massage, or your daily dose of cuddles?”

-

Karkat helps Dave out of his clothes and it is about the least sexy strip-down Dave has gotten from his boyfriend by far. Dave is a useless, weak noodle, just letting Karkat manhandle him however he needs to until Dave is down to nothing but boxers.

When Karkat asks him what he’d like, Dave looks up at him with large eyes.

“...Is there a D, all of the above?” Dave asks, a bit sheepishly.

It’s...so fucking selfish. He’s been nothing but a pain and he’s still asking Karkat for more.

But...he can’t help it. He’s feeling raw and exposed and vulnerable. Dave needs Karkat to help make him feel like a person again, instead of just a limp husk lying on the sheets.

-

Karkat isn’t sure if Dave is making those pleading doe eyes at him on purpose or not, but either way it works. He folds immediately, saying, “of course, baby,” and gives Dave another lingering kiss before hefting himself off the bed and going to fetch his massage oils.

“Turn onto your stomach,” he instructs. “Near the edge of the bed so you don’t lay on your cast.”

Dave does as he’s told and Karkat climbs back onto the bed, bottles of oil in hand, and rests on his knees next to him. It would be better if Karkat could straddle him, so he could lean more of his weight into his hands, but this will work fine. He uncaps the oil and pours some into his hand, then sets the bottle aside. He rubs his hands together, warming up the oil, before spreading it across Dave’s back.

Karkat’s done this enough by now to know where Dave holds most of his tension and how hard he can press in certain areas to work out the knots without making it hurt. He spends a lot of time working on Dave’s shoulders, pressing his fingers against soft skin and rubbing firm circles into the muscle. He listens intently to Dave’s breathing, adjusting his approach when he hears his breath hitch or when Dave lets out a happy little sigh.

He rubs his fingers over the bumpy scar tissue, too. It doesn’t help with working pain out of muscles, but Karkat read that it can help reduce the appearance of the scars. He doesn’t think it’s been working so far, but he keeps trying anyway, dragging his thumbs over criss-crossing raised lines. 

When Dave shivers, Karkat lets up his attention on the scars. Instead he focuses on Dave’s lower back, kneading into it with much less pressure than anywhere else so he doesn’t hurt the sensitive muscles there.

“Okay, baby?” he asks quietly.

-

Karkat instructs Dave to get onto his stomach, his cast hanging off the bed. It’s the only way he’s able to lay on his stomach these days, but Karkat never lets him sleep like this, saying it’s too much strain on his shoulder and arm to let it hang off the bed for so long.

Dave turns his head, resting his cheek on the pillows and closing his eyes, letting himself enjoy the feeling of Karkat’s big, warm hands on his shoulders and back.

His boyfriend’s hands are fucking magic. Karkat always manages to work out pain and tension Dave didn’t even know was there, but today he can feel every ache in his muscles down to his core. As Karkat kneads his hands into Dave’s skin, the tension seeps out of him, aches and tension and pain leaving his body like Karkat is flushing a wound.

Bit by bit the toxins are leached from his very pores until Dave feels light again, but not floaty and distant like before. Peaceful, weightless, like a cloud.

Karkat asks how it feels, pulling Dave back down to the present. He opens his eyes, and his vision is blurry.

He sniffles.

What?

What was that about?

“Mhm...” Dave mumbles.

-

Karkat’s hand still at the sound of Dave sniffling, and he leans forward a bit, concern shooting through him when he sees Dave blink out a tear.

“Dave, what’s wrong?” he asks. “Does it hurt?”

He isn’t doing anything more than he’s done before, but maybe with Dave aching so much it’s still too hard? He takes his hands away, biting his lip, unsure. He’s never made Dave cry during a backrub before.

-

Dave turns his head to bury his face into the pillows, rubbing his face against them to wipe away the tears.

“It’s—it’s nothing! I’m fine! Keep—“ Dave exhales, face still buried in the pillows, his neck and ears going red. “Keep going.”

-

Karkat watches as the back of Dave’s neck goes red and frowns, but returns his hands to Dave’s back. He doesn’t put any weight behind his movements, running his palms lightly, soothingly up to the tops of Dave’s shoulders and down to the waistband of his boxers.

He rises on his knees and leans forward to drop a kiss to the crown of Dave’s head.

“Why are you crying?” he asks. “Talk to me, Dave. What’s going on?”

-

Dave squeezes his eyes shut tight, as though that will make the tears forcibly stop out of sheer will power. No such luck.

Karkat returns his hands and Dave gives a little sigh of relief. He doesn’t press them in deeply, just stroking them up and down Dave’s back, soothing and slow.

Dave tries to match his breathing to the touch. He feels Karkat kiss the top of his head and that somehow sets off a whole new round of tears.

“I don’t know,” Dave says, voice muffled by the pillows, too embarrassed to move. “I don’t fucking know what’s wrong with me today.”

He doesn’t know _why_ he had a fucking flashback. He doesn’t know why he’s crying because of a massage. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he’s tired of not knowing, he just wants Karkat to take all of this confusion away so he doesn’t have to think anymore.

“...don’ stop.” Dave mumbles.

-

Karkat kisses Dave’s head again. “I won’t, baby. I’ve got you.”

He settles back down, focuses on getting back into the massage. He adds some more oil, smoothing the glide of his hands, while Dave leaks tears into the pillow.

“My dad really liked you,” he says. “I mean I’m not surprised. You’re the most lovable person I know, of course he was going to like you. But he doesn’t really talk about my mom much, and he actually told a few stories about her tonight, so. That means a lot, from him.”

His fingers are starting to ache a bit, but he keeps going, running them up to Dave’s neck and dragging firm lines up and down it, some of the oil getting into Dave’s hair.

“I’m surprised he didn’t whip out adoption papers the second you said his name,” Karkat snorts. “You did really good today, Dave.”

-

Karkat says _I’ve got you_ and gets right back into the massage. He doesn’t press Dave any more on the crying, which Dave is thankful for.

Dave can’t seem to stop the tears. He’s not weeping into the pillows like a teenage girl that just got dumped by her prom date, thankfully, but the tears keep slipping silently out and get soaked up by the pillow case.

Eventually, he needs air, so he turns his head and rests his cheek down on the sheets. He manages soft little hums to what Karkat says, not trusting his voice to speak just yet.

When Karkat mentions the adoption thing, Dave lets out a weak little huff of a laugh, then sniffles a bit.

“Good thing he didn’t,” Dave murmurs, “Can’t exactly marry my adoptive brother.”

-

Karkat’s eyes widen, his hands freezing for a second before getting right back to the massage. Did he hear that right? He had to have heard that right, right? He swallows thickly around a lump in his throat, heart pounding so loud that John can probably hear it all the way in his bedroom.

“Marry?” he repeats, voice about three octaves too high to pass as casual.

-

Oh fuck, he said that out loud, didn’t he?

Should he try to backpedal? Karkat repeats the word like he’s wondering if Dave really said that. Dave could have a chance to make up some bullshit stupid lie and say Karkat misheard him. Or that Dave was just overtired and he was mixing up his words.

His heart is fucking pounding now. Karkat can probably feel it as he rubs at his back.

He hadn’t exactly expected this to come up while Dave was laying in bed half-naked and crying into his pillow with no idea why he was doing so.

It was cool, he could totally still save this. He’s been an emotional wreck for hours but he was not going to fuck this up any more than he already had.

“Yeah,” Dave says, trying to keep his voice light, but it still creaks and cracks from his crying, “Your old man said I was practically family. Don’t think that he meant it literally, so...”

-

Karkat… isn’t sure what to make of that. It was just a joke, he’s reading way too much into this. They don’t even know if Karkat’s words are on Dave’s arm yet, it’s way too early to think about getting _married_.

He wants it, though. He wants to marry Dave, whether he carries Karkat’s words or not. Wants to wake up to him every day and spend their lives learning everything there is to know about each other. Wants to hold Dave through nightmares and panic attacks, wants to kiss him at midnight on New Year’s, wants to listen to his ridiculous mumbled rapping and whisper _love you_ s to each other every morning.

But it was just a joke, and Karkat clears his throat. There will be time for that later.

“Right,” he says. He lifts his hands and laces his fingers together, pushing out until his knuckles crack and he winces. “I’m gonna go wash the massage oil off my hands and then I’ll give you a headrub, okay baby?”

-

“Yup, totally.” Dave says quickly as Karkat gets up off the bed and heads off to the bathroom.

Dave stays put until he hears the bathroom door click closed, then he pushes him up onto his knees. He sits there on his heels for a moment, staring off at nothing while cursing his entire goddamn existence.

Way to fucking go, Strider. Now Karkat probably thought Dave just mentioned that whole marriage thing as dumb little goof.

It’s not exactly like he can propose to Karkat now, with his puffy eyes and wearing nothing but fucking boxers. Karkat loved romance, he craved the kind of ‘dance around in the grass barefoot’ kind of love that his parents had. And Dave was gonna fucking give it to him. When he proposed it was gonna be the most romantic fucking shit Karkat had ever witnessed. All those rom-coms wouldn’t hold a candle. They’d be hot garbage in comparison.

Dave wipes at his wet lashes and the tear tracks on his cheeks. Alright, get it together, Dave. Stop being such a emotional wreck for two fucking seconds. Otherwise he’d just keep shoving his foot in his mouth.

Dave lays back down on the bed, back on his back, and closes his eyes, waiting for Karkat to come back and his heart to stop racing.

-

Karkat spends too long in the bathroom, trying to pull himself together. He’s getting worked up over a stupid joke and he feels like an idiot. He scowls at himself in the bathroom mirror. He splashes water on his face, wipes it off with a towel, and shakes his head.

It doesn’t matter if Dave isn’t interested in getting married. They’re young as fuck and Karkat’s lucky Dave agreed to date him at all. He firmly pushes any thought of marriage out of his mind and makes his way back to the bedroom. 

Dave opens his eyes as he walks in and Karkat pulls a smile that’s only slightly forced onto his face. Dave’s face and eyes are red from crying, but he still looks like a fucking vision, painted onto the world just for Karkat. He gets into bed, scooting up to rest his back against the headboard.

“C’mere,” he says. “Put your head in my lap.”

-

Karkat doesn’t have to tell Dave twice. Dave scooches over to put his head in Karkat’s lap, sighing contentedly as he rests his head down.

He opens his eyes to look up Karkat, and smiles. Dave reaches up and pokes Karkat on the cheek.

“You’re too good to me.” Dave says.

-

Karkat grabs Dave’s hand where it’s poking him in the cheek and brings it to his lips, kissing the pad of his finger before bringing it down to rest by Dave’s side.

“I am the minimum acceptable amount of good to you,” he corrects lightly, sinking his fingers into Dave’s hair and watching in satisfaction as his boyfriend’s eyes slip shut.

He starts by lightly running his fingers through the strands of Dave’s hair, watching the way they reflect light. Dave’s hair has gotten shinier and softer, as of late, and one of Karkat’s favorite things to do is feel it against his skin. 

That’s not what Dave asked for, though, so he switches gears, scritching his nails across Dave’s scalp before searching out a few pressure points to rub circles into. He alternates between light drags of his fingertips against Dave’s head and firmer touches against pressure points. He avoids Dave’s ears and neck, not wanting to tease or make this sexual. Dave had a scary experience earlier, and all Karkat wants to do is take care of him.

-

Karkat starts off just running his fingers slowly through Dave’s hair, making Dave’s body melt even deeper into the mattress.

Then Karkat begins to dig his fingers into pressure points, and runs his nails along Dave’s scalp. It sends tingles coursing through Dave’s body, from the top of his head and down his back, and up again. Dave shivers as he lets out a long, contented sigh, his eyelids fluttering.

“ _This_ is your minimum?” Dave murmurs, “Then I’m mighty curious as to what you’re holding back on me.”

-

Karkat’s mouth quirks up.

“You’ll just have to stick around and find out, I guess,” he says.

Dave looks so fucking relaxed, body limp and eyes closed. He still looks exhausted, but he isn’t crying anymore and his voice is slow and quiet. Karkat stares at him openly, enthralled by the small expressions that flit across his face as he digs his thumbs into the base of his skull, or gently rubs at his temples, or presses his fingers in a semi-circle behind his ears.

Karkat brushes Dave’s hair lightly off his forehead. Dave deserves to be treated like he’s precious, because he fucking is, and Karkat will gladly spend every day of the rest of his life coming up with new ways to show him that.

-

Dave turns his head to the side to kiss Karkat on the stomach.

“I think I will,” Dave says, shuffling into a comfier position.

It isn’t long before Karkat’s ministrations leave Dave completely weightless and calm, and with his head cradled comfortably in Karkat’s warm, soft lap, it isn’t long before the drag of Karkat’s fingers through his hair and along his scalp lull Dave into a trance, and shortly after that he’s completely asleep.

-

Karkat keeps going even after Dave falls asleep and starts snoring lightly, his eyes soft as he watches his boyfriend sleep. He tucks a piece of hair behind Dave’s ear and sighs, still feeling the after-image of Dave’s lips against his stomach. He’s slowly starting to come around to the way Dave kisses him there.

As much as he’d love to stay like this, he can’t sleep in this position. He lifts Dave’s head up and carefully scoots out, then heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He texts his dad, apologizing for the belated message and assuring him that they got home safe, then messages his friends, who are all clamouring to know when they’ll be getting their leftovers. Greedy assholes.

When he returns to the bedroom, Dave is still curled up near the top of the bed and Karkat laughs quietly, coming over to the other side to gently move Dave into a better position. He presses a kiss to his cheek when a red eye slits open and then Dave falls back to sleep once more. Karkat climbs into bed, throws a leg over Dave’s own, resting his head against Dave’s chest, and lets his heartbeat lull him to sleep.

-

The next couple of weeks go by without much incident, and Dave is thankful for it. It takes him another full day to come around after his flashback/panic attack, his body completely unprepared for the effects such a thing would have on it.

Karkat was there every step of the way, of course, reheating his dad’s leftovers for Dave to eat, cuddling with him on the couch. He made sure they did whatever Dave wanted to do, and all Dave felt like doing was grabbing a few bottles of super glue and sticking himself to Karkat’s side permanently. He was as clingy as a fucking baby koala, but Karkat didn’t seem to mind. In fact, everytime Dave pouted at him when he had to get up to use the washroom or put their plates in the kitchen, Karkat didn’t even roll his eyes. He just smiled and laughed and promised he’d be right back.

The next day was better. Dave was finally feeling like his old self again and it was good timing, because he had a shift at work.

His arm bugged him throughout his whole shift. It was a peculiar sensation, nothing like the itchiness he got under the cast now and then—though that was pure fucking torture. Dave thought there was nothing worse than an itch that couldn’t be scratched, but this sensation was starting to usurp that.

It felt like...his arm was having a stomachache??

That was fucking dumb but it was the only thing that came close to the feeling. It wasn’t a burning or an itching or a tingling sensation, but a...deep, roiling discomfort, localized in his forearm.

He started Googling for answers on his lunch break, and that was a fucking mistake because it didn’t quell his anxieties in the least.

Blood clots, skin infections...shit. Shit, shit, shitty shit shit shit. Not good.

Dave puts his phone away, unable to deep dive down Google and webMD any more than he already has. He rubs his thumb along his Sharpie’d in words. After a few minutes, the discomfort resides, ebbing away so slowly that Dave doesn’t even realize it’s gone.

Going back to his stomachache metaphor, it sort of felt like the slow relief after a trip to the bathroom with an upset stomach.

...Okay, kinda gross. But still the most accurate description he had for the feeling.

His arm doesn’t bug him for the rest of the shift, but the discomfort keeps coming back over the next couple of days. Dave tries Tylenol, tries to keep his arm elevated more while he’s sitting around or sleeping, but no luck. It persists no matter what remedies he tries.

The only thing that does seem to help is just waiting it out. He’ll just stroke his cast and wait for the feeling to fade.

On a Monday morning while Dave and Karkat are hanging out in the living room having breakfast, Dave gets a call from an unknown number. It’s from the hospital, saying it was time to come in and see if his cast was ready for removal.

Fucking finally. The appointment is booked for the following day at noon, and when Dave hangs up he looks at Karkat with a grin.

“Looks like we’ll be saying good riddance to old Red here, soon.” Dave says, waggling his cast for emphasis.

Then, Dave’s heart lurches with realization. If his cast was coming off, that would mean that he and Karkat would finally know for certain whether or not Dave had Karkat’s words on his arm.

-

The following weeks are calm and quiet, which is a nice respite after the stressful shit they’d gone through. Dave is clingy and sweet the next day and Karkat does his best to make him feel better, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him close at every opportunity, covering him with kisses, telling him how much Karkat loves him. It sort of helps, he thinks, and the next day Dave is back to being his energetic, exasperating self.

Karkat researches PTSD and flashbacks but there never seems like a good time to bring it up, so he shoves the knowledge to the back of his head to pull out the next time Dave has a nightmare and they’re up talking until the early hours of the morning.

When Dave gets the call about having his cast removed Karkat is ecstatic and terrified at the same time. There’s a lot of conflicting shit going through him and he tries to work it out while giving Dave a smile.

Happiness that Dave will finally have his arm function back. Disappointment that Dave won’t need him anymore. Terror that Karkat’s words won’t be on his arm and Dave will realize this was all a big mistake and decide that he’s better off waiting for his real soulmate.

That won’t happen. Karkat _knows_ it won’t happen. Dave loves him; he’s said so many fucking times that it doesn’t matter if he has Karkat’s words, he wants to be with him. 

It’s only by repeating these words in his head that Karkat is able to beat back an anxiety attack in favor of leaning his head against Dave’s shoulder.

“Excited?” he asks, voice surprisingly calm considering how fucking panicked he’s feeling. He runs a finger lightly along the cast. “You never actually got around to drawing dicks on this.”

-

“Oh my god, you’re so right. I have been slacking on the dick doodles,” Dave says, “Hold up, lemme go grab a marker.”

Karkat lifts his head off Dave’s shoulder with an exasperated laugh, and Dave gets up from the couch to go grab a Sharpie. He walks back into the living and plops down on the couch, yanking the cap off with his teeth.

“Les’ rect’fy d’ sit’chu’ation,” Dave says, voice garbled with his mouth around the marker cap.

He starts drawing a goddamn plethora of dicks of all shapes and sizes all over the cast. Then he hands the marker to Karkat and pulls the cap out of his mouth.

“Alright, babe, do your worst. Send this fuckin’ thing off with a bang.”

-

Karkat’s shoulders shake helplessly as he watches his idiot boyfriend cover his cast with poorly drawn dicks. He didn’t expect Dave to fucking jump up and grab a marker, though he honestly should have.

He sighs dramatically as he grabs the marker, scooching forward and hunching over Dave’s cast, finding a blank space and doodling a dick that somehow looks even worse than all of the ones Dave drew. He does a few more, sticking them in empty spots, then adds faces to a few and then, finally, he draws a little heart next to the words he’d written weeks ago, because he’s a fucking sap.

“There,” he says, grabbing the cap from Dave and putting it on the marker. “Happy?”

-

Dave watches Karkat draw dicks in the empty spaces on his arm, grinning when Karkat adds some grumpy and smiley faces to a couple of the larger ones. His smile gets even bigger when Karkat draws a heart next to his words.

“It’s a masterpiece,” Dave says. He leans over and kisses Karkat on the cheek.

Christ, he couldn’t wait to get this fucking cast off. He was so ready to sleep on his stomach again without a big heavy cast hanging off the side of the bed, forcing him into a different position when it got too uncomfortable.

He could finally shower without a big bag on his arm, he could help Karkat in the kitchen with both of his hands, he and John could finally take turns doing dishes.

...He can’t believe he’s excited to do dishes. What the fuck.

But most of all he was excited (and also admittedly fucking terrified) to see if he had Karkat’s words on his arm.

Karkat and Dave both have Tuesday off, so Karkat drives them to the hospital and they wait around to be called in. Karkat doesn’t seem especially thrilled to be back in a hospital again. Dave holds his hand while they sit together in the waiting room, rubbing his thumb along his fingers.

Hopefully this will be the last time either of them are in a hospital together for a good long time. If Dave could have it his way, it would be never.

Dave’s name gets called and they head into what looks to be the same room as before, when Dave first got the cast on all those weeks ago.

So much had changed and happened since then. When he and Karkat were in this room last, they weren’t a couple yet. They were pretty much still strangers. Hell, Dave didn’t even know Karkat’s last name yet.

And now here they were, following the doctor into the room, hand-in-hand. It’s even the same doctor as last time, too. Dave’s sure any of the doctors or nurses who bothered to remember Dave and Karkat from all those weeks ago are probably having a good fucking laugh over the fact they were an item now.

“How are you feeling, Dave?” The doctor asks as they enter the room. He guides Dave to sit in a chair in the middle of the room that’s similar to a dentist’s chair. “Any soreness, swelling, or pain? You’re probably eager to get this cast off, huh?”

Dave gets into the chair and his gaze flickers to Karkat for a moment before looking back to the doctor. The doctor is looking at the drawings over Dave’s cast, his eyes crinkled with amusement.

“I think there...may have been some swelling or something?” Dave says slowly, “It felt really weird, not really...painful, exactly. But, uh—not exactly pleasant, either. I tried elevating my arm but that didn’t really seem to help.”

“And this was when the cast first went on?” The doctor prods, as he lifts the cast up to inspect it further.

“Uh, no. I mean it felt a bit tight and itchy at first, but nothing weird. I mean I guess it did kind of swell up but that felt like...pressure.” Dave furrows his brow as he searches for the words, “What I was feeling was more recent. Started happening a few days ago and it felt like...I don’t really know how to describe it, exactly. My arm wasn’t swollen, though.”

“I see,” The doctor says, “well, it seems like everything has healed, so we’ll take a closer look once we cut the cast off and maybe that’ll tell us what we need to know about this sensation you were feeling.”

The doctor gets out some tools. One which looks like a...mini buzz saw. It makes Dave’s throat bob, and the doctor obviously notices his trepidation and chuckles softly.

“Not to worry,” the doctor says, “it’s the only way to get it off. I know it looks a little scary, but I’ve removed quite a few casts and so far nobody’s limbs have come off with it.”

Dave manages a little breath of a laugh. “I’ll hold you to it, doc.”

“Alright,” the doctor says, turning on the little saw, “Here we go.”

Dave and Karkat both stare down at Dave’s arm as the little saw works its way through the plaster and tape, tortuously slow.

“It doesn’t spin or cut, see?” The doctor says, talking loudly over the sound of the little saw, which sounds more like a tiny vacuum than a saw. “It just vibrates. And I’m just gonna press it in and out, like this, see?”

The doctor works his way down the cast, on the top of Dave’s forearm, making incisions into the red tape as he goes.

The saw turns off, and there’s a long crack all the way down the top of the cast, from elbow to fingers.

“It tickled like fucking hell.” Dave blurts out.

The doctor snorts. “Told you it wouldn’t hurt!” he says, “Alright, I’m gonna do it again on the other side, then I’m gonna use a spreader to pry it open. Then some scissors to cut off that soft sock underneath. Then you’ll finally be free.”

Dave nods. “Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

The doctor turns the saw again and does the same incisions into the red tape on the other side of the cast, which unfortunately means watching the words Karkat wrote get sliced in half.

Dave really fucking hopes that’s not a bad omen.

His heart is fucking pounding as the doctor cracks off the red hard tape with the spreader tool, and it feels like it’s in his goddamn throat while the doctor cuts away the cotton sock with the scissors.

This was it. It was finally happening. The doctor himself didn’t even realize the gravity this moment held for the other two people in this room. Dave and Karkat haven’t stopped staring at Dave’s arm since the moment the saw began to cut.

With one last snip of the scissors, the cotton sock is cut loose and the doctor pulls it away.

Dave grabs his shades and pushes them up into his hair and he leans down to get a closer look at his now completely bare arm, finally cast-free.

“Holy shit.” Dave breathes.

_Oh fuck, I think you have a concussion._

It’s really there. Light gray and tiny, but there.

Karkat’s words.

Karkat is Dave’s soulmate.

-

Karkat feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin the next morning. He didn’t get any sleep, though he stayed in bed all night. He watched Dave’s face and gently played with his hair and ran his fingers over the words on his cast until the sun rose and he forced himself to slip out of bed.

He makes breakfast for Dave but sticks to drinking coffee himself. He showers and brushes his teeth and gets dressed before Dave even opens his eyes, then goes to sit on the couch and fuck around on his phone, his leg jiggling up and down as he tries to focus on anything other than the fact that, in a few short hours, they’ll know if Dave is destined to be with him or not. If Karkat has an unrequited bond.

It doesn’t matter. It _shouldn’t_ matter. It doesn’t. Karkat repeats this to himself, replays every time Dave has said _I love you_ in his head, and tries to breathe. Despite himself, the panic expands in his chest, and he digs his nails so hard into the palm of his hand it peels away layers of skin.

Dave doesn’t seem nervous at all, when he comes out. He kisses Karkat and eats his breakfast and the normalcy of the situation helps Karkat stay calm. He doesn’t even realize that going to the hospital to get Dave’s cast removed involves _going to the fucking hospital_ until they’re standing in the lobby and Karkat is hit with another wave of anxiety, this one much more familiar and easy to deal with.

Dave holds his hand in the waiting room. Karkat focuses on the warm point of contact and gives him a tight smile. Dave doesn’t give a shit about soulmates. It doesn’t matter if he has Karkat’s words or not.

He doesn’t notice Dave’s name being called, but he does notice Dave standing up and tugging him down the hallway. Karkat stands to the side in the little hospital room as Dave and the doctor talk. They sound like they’re far away, or like Karkat is listening to them speak from under water.

The doctor uses what seems to be a miniature fucking buzzsaw to hack away at Dave’s cast and it drags out until Karkat feels woozy and he realizes he’s holding his breath. He forces himself to breathe, eyes never leaving Dave’s arm.

Finally, finally, the cast is removed. Karkat steps closer, hands shaking, and looks.

His words are there.

He feels a numb sense of relief crash over him. He sees his hand reach out and gently touch Dave’s arm, skimming over the gray letters, and when he looks up he locks eyes with Dave.

Sound returns like the rush of a wind tunnel, and Karkat is suddenly aware of himself laughing. He yanks Dave forward into a crushing hug, tears stinging eyes.

“Your arm smells like shit,” he says hoarsely.

-

Karkat's hands reach out to touch the words, and Dave sucks in a gasp at the rush of tingles that shoot up his arm like they had been blasted out of a fucking cannon. 

He looks up at Karkat the same moment Karkat looks at him. Karkat's laughing in disbelief, tears in his eyes. Before Dave can say a word Karkat pulls Dave forward and Dave lets out a little _oof_ as Karkat crushes him against him. 

A little laugh bursts out of Dave at Karkat's comment. And, well, yeah, the smell is fucking rank and is kind of impeding on the moment a little bit. But then Dave remembers his arm is free, that Karkat is hugging him and that Dave can hug him back--

Dave throws both arms around Karkat's neck and holds him tight, laughing wetly. 

The doctor makes a soft little _ahem_ , and Dave pops one eye open to look at him over Karkat's shoulder. He isn't letting go unless he absolutely has to. The doctor has a soft smile on his face, and Dave knows from that expression the doctor is well aware this isn't just some tearful celebration because the cast is off. 

"You'd be surprised how many soulmates meet in the ER," the doctor says, laughing warmly, "Sometimes I feel more like a matchmaker than a doctor." 

The doctor takes a step forward (he must have stepped back to give the two of them time to have their Moment) and gives Dave an apologetic smile. 

"Sorry, but I do still need to look over your arm." the doctor says.

"Oh, shit. Uh...right. Yeah." Dave very reluctantly lets go of Karkat, and Karkat steps back while awkwardly clearing his throat and wiping at his eyes. 

The doctor steps forward and picks up Dave's arm, prodding around Dave's elbow and asking if there's any pain. Dave shakes his head no. The doctor nods at this in approval, testing Dave's range of motion a bit further. Then he holds out Dave's arm and looks at the words on his forearm. His finger runs across the words. Dave doesn't feel the slightest tingle from it. 

"Your soulmark is inflamed."

Dave blinks rapidly at this, and looks down at the words. Sure enough, now that he really looks at it, the skin just around the words is red, and the words seemed to be raised slightly. It looks like a fresh tattoo, red and swollen.

"...Is that bad?" Dave asks nervously.

He'd never heard of a soulmark getting inflamed before. Was it...infected somehow.

"Well, soulmarks can be rejected," the doctor explains, "But it has to be a conscious effort from the bearer of the words. It's...incredibly rare. Obviously most people are enthusiastic about finding their soulmate. But sometimes, people try to purposefully reject the mark. I've had individuals try to damage the surrounding skin, with chemical burns and such. Sometimes it's from pure willpower. They cover the mark up and will it out of existence by telling themselves it isn't there."

The doctor explains all of this matter-of-factly, but his expression is also a bit grim, his eyes sad.

"Sometimes people fear their family will reject them for their soulmate. This is common for soulmates of who have a sexual orientation towards the same sex, unfortunately." The doctor goes on, "If you've been experiencing any of those kinds of thoughts yourself, Dave, that would be why your mark is inflamed."

Dave quickly shakes his head, automatically reaching out for Karkat's wrist while he keeps looking at the doctor. "No, not--not at all. Nothing like that," Dave says earnestly. "I wanted the words to be there. I even had Karkat write his words on my cast. If anything, I was trying to will them into existence, not the other way around."

"Your words would have shown up the same day Karkat's did," the doctor explains as he looks at Dave's soulmark a bit closer, "considering your arm was covered by the cast, it's possible it had a similar effect to when people cover the mark on purpose. If you had no obvious proof the words were there, the bigger your doubt they appeared at all."

"So, now that the cast is off and I know for sure I'm not cursed, the inflammation should go away and my soulmark won't reject?" Dave asks hopefully.

The doctor gives Dave a warm, calm smile. "Nobody is cursed. Everyone has a soulmate out there. Some are just fortunate to get to meet them in this lifetime, or keep their hearts open to let them in."

The doctor pats Dave on the shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure the redness and swelling will go down, likely within a few hours. Maybe put a bit of lotion on it, if the skin feels irritated. And if you do have any problems, give us a call. Otherwise, my boy, you are free to go."

Dave lets out a sigh of relief. He gets up out of the chair and the doctor brings Dave and Karkat out of the room, walking them back out to the waiting area. He gives them a friendly wave and then he's off to his next patient. And just like that, it's over.

Dave and Karkat walk out the automatic doors and then stand out by the entrance into the hospital, both silent in disbelief.

"We're soulmates." Dave says. He turns to look at Karkat. "You're my soulmate."

Dave breaks out into a wide grin. "Karkat, you're my fucking _soulmate_."

-

Dave hugs him with both arms and it feels fucking perfect. Karkat never wants him to let go, but the doctor still has to look over Dave’s arm, so he steps back regretfully, wiping tears out of his eyes and waiting for the okay to scoop Dave back up again.

When he hears the word _inflamed_ he tenses, eyes growing wide. Karkat knows a lot about soulmates and soulmarks, and having your words be inflamed is never good. His heart drops to his feet. Dave _loves_ him, he wouldn’t reject their bond. He _wants_ to be Karkat’s soulmate.

Dave’s hand around his wrists grounds him, dispelling some of his panic, and he listens intently as the doctor explains. It… makes sense, he supposes, and he clings to that. 

It’s been an emotional roller coaster of a day and it isn’t even over yet. Karkat’s been on the edge of a meltdown for hours and he kind of feels like he needs to go hide in the bathroom and tug at his hair and just… let everything out. But Dave’s still holding his wrist and asking the doctor if the inflammation will go away and he can’t just leave him in the middle of this.

The doctor says that no one is cursed--which Karkat’s been saying for weeks, thank you--and then leads them to the waiting room, and they walk outside, and Dave is beaming at him with a wide, toothy smile, and saying _you’re my soulmate_ and--

Karkat reaches out without thinking, desperately gripping the back of Dave’s shirt and burying his head in Dave’s neck, breathing him in as tears leak from his eyes.

He feels like an idiot. He should be happy. He _is_ happy, he’s fucking overjoyed. Dave is his soulmate, this is exactly what he wanted.

But he’s shaking and he didn’t sleep last night and he hasn’t eaten anything and adrenaline is still pumping through him and more than anything he feels… overwhelmed.

-

"Aww, kitten," Dave croons, wrapping his arms (both arms!) around Karkat and rubbing his back as Karkat cries silently into his neck. "It's alright, baby. I got you, big guy. I got you."

Dave kisses Karkat's temple softly, pulling them away from the doors in case a fucking ambulance pulls up or some shit. He walks them over to a bench nearby, and sits them down. It didn't slip Dave's attention that Karkat had been vibrating with nervous energy all morning, and that there had only been a plate of food made up for Dave at breakfast when he came out to the kitchen. No dirty dishes in the sink or out in the living room. Karkat had just slammed back two mugs of black coffee and nothing else.

He also hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. Not for lack of trying on Dave's part. He played with Karkat's hair for hours but he still passed out before Karkat did, and Karkat was still out of bed long before Dave was. Dave is pretty sure he didn't sleep a wink.

Dave presses himself against Karkat as they sit on the bench, letting Karkat tuck his face into Dave's neck and let it all out. Dave rubs his hand up and down Karkat's broad back and presses little kisses into his curls.

"Pretty devastating news, huh?" Dave asks lightly, "Being stuck with me for life and all."

-

Dave talks to him softly, sweetly, and that only makes him cry harder. He lets himself be led over to a bench and sits down, so close to Dave he may as well be in his lap. Dave rubs his back while he breaks down. Karkat doesn’t think crying is a sign of weakness or any bullshit like that, but he does feel embarrassed to be sobbing like a baby where anyone can see. 

“Shut up,” he laughs, wet and gross, when Dave speaks. “I love you. I’m happy. I just--”

He doesn’t know what he’s just. He holds Dave tighter and focuses on breathing evenly, on trying to stem the flow of tears. It takes too long, but eventually he’s able to pull back and wipe at his face.

“Sorry,” he mutters, hoping they can move on from this stupid moment and go back to Dave grinning at him like he just got what he wanted for christmas. “Ready to go home?”

-

"Absolutely," Dave says, "I need to go wash my arm for like, two hours."

As much as he wants to enjoy having use of both arms again, first he needed to make his arm...not smell like it was rotting in a ditch for over a month. Karkat really must love him, letting him sit this close. The stink is honestly pretty fucking embarrassing and he would like to rectify it as soon as possible.

They head to the car and Dave rolls down the window so his arm stank doesn't suffocate them for the entire ride home. It's so weird, having his arm back. The solid weight of the cast was a familiar annoyance he'd gotten used to over the last few weeks. The feeling of it being gone was like leaving a backpack behind, or something. Like he was forgetting something.

It's a short drive back to Dave's apartment, and as soon as Dave gets inside and kicks off his shoes he looks at Karkat with a cheeky smile.

"Shower with me?"

Dave could shower by himself now, but he has a feeling it would be really fucking weird to go by himself. There's probably going to be a learning curve where Karkat doesn't automatically follow Dave when Dave needs to take a shower. He wonders if Karkat will still keep doing all the little things he did without thinking for Dave, like opening jars and shit. Dave could do two-handed tasks again, but...he still wanted Karkat to feel like he was _needed_. That he didn't need to dote on Dave hand and foot for Dave to want him around.

Maybe Dave could pretend every single jar in the house was too hard for him to open. Butter up his boyfriend's ego and make Karkat feel like a big strong manly man, opening up all the jars and shit.

Or he could just...tell Karkat that Dave doesn't weigh Karkat's value on his ability to be helpful? Either way, he's sure the look on Karkat's face would be worth it.

But Karkat trying to hide a smile when Dave told him what a big strong hunk he was...that was too good to pass up.

-

When they get home the first thing Dave does is ask Karkat to shower with him, which is an opportunity Karkat will never turn down. He is surprised Dave isn’t taking immediate advantage of his newfound independence, though.

“Of course, babe,” he says, giving Dave a quick kiss before he toes off his shoes. Dave’s arm probably needs to be boiled in bleach to smell less like roadkill, but a shower is a good start.

Karkat reaches out to help Dave unbutton his shirt out of habit before letting his hands drop and giving a sheepish smile. Dave doesn’t need his help with shit anymore. Karkat is going to have to adjust to that. It’s weird as fuck, not having to go through the process of taping bags over Dave’s arms. They can just… undress and hop in the shower, now. 

Dave still adjusts the temperature, though, because this shower hates Karkat. When he steps into the shower he immediately grabs a loofah and dumps a shit ton of soap on it, sudsing it up and passing it to Dave.

“Scrub that shit raw,” he commands, wrinkling his nose. “It smells fucking terrible.”

-

They head into the bathroom and Karkat automatically reaches over and starts unbuttoning Dave's shirt. He undoes the first button before realizing he doesn't have to do this anymore, and he drops his arms. The embarrassed little smile Karkat gives Dave makes Dave's stomach do a backflip. Fuck, Karkat is so cute. He wants to encourage Karkat to keep going, say please keep undressing me...but that would sound ridiculously sexual and the smell of his arm is making his dick very unattentive, so that would all have to wait for now.

Dave fucks with the temperature, the two of them strip down and step in, and Karkat hands Dave a loofah coated with body wash and commands him to scrub down his arm. Dave takes the loofah with a light chuckle.

"You got it, boss," Dave says, and gets to work scrubbing the absolute shit out of his arm. Not only does it feel good to finally be able to wash the neglected skin, the scratchy loofah feels fucking incredible, like he's finally getting to scratch an itch. It was kind of like itching your heel after wearing tight socks, only all over his arm.

Dave gives his arm a whiff after rinsing off the first round of soap. The scent had dulled to something akin the smell skin had after a band-aid was taken off, but all over his arm instead of localized into a small spot. Still not exactly pleasant, but it was getting better than rotting flesh/roadkill/dick cheese/sweaty feet/every other culmination of Bad Smells that Dave could think of.

"I think I'm'a need something more astringent," Dave mutters, going back in with the still sudsy loofah.

-

Karkat watches, lip curling with disgust, as Dave scrubs at his arm, layers of dead skin sloughing off and being washed away by the water. When his arm is bright pink, Dave sniffs at it and goes again, scrubbing hard.

It’s difficult to watch as Dave’s skin gets more and more red, until he finally reaches out and snatches the loofah out of Dave’s hand. He runs it under the water, cleaning it off, then douses it with more soap.

“You’re going to give yourself rugburn, idiot,” Karkat mutters, grabbing Dave by the wrist and starting to wash the offending limb himself. Firm but not rough, like Dave was doing.

-

Dave scrubs away at his arm and Karkat stands there and just watches for a moment before he snatches the loofah out of Dave’s hand and starts rubbing down Dave’s arm himself, chiding Dave for scrubbing too hard.

Heh. Dave really was a hopeless case, huh? Dave might be in an extra sappy mood considering he just found out the guy in front of him is his soulmate, that Dave isn’t cursed after all, that he’s fated to Karkat and Karkat is fated to him. And thank fucking god for that, because Dave isn’t sure what in the hell he would do without Karkat in his life at this rate.

“How did I ever make it through the last twenty-three years without you?” Dave asks.

He’s got a dopey little smile on his face, eyes soft and full of affection. He’s not even saying this to be a goof. Dave is honestly beside himself with how he’d ever gone a day in his life without his soulmate by his side. The days leading up to their encounter feel like they’re from another timeline, the colours of that world dull and lifeless. The days blurring into each other, and getting darker and bleaker the farther back into his past he looked. Looking at his arm and wondering if any words would ever show up. Or if Bro had been right, and Dave’s only destiny was to be alone forever.

But now Karkat was Dave’s destiny. Karkat always had been. They were meant to meet, meant to be together, and Dave was going to hold onto that as tight as he could.

With both fucking hands.

-

Karkat has something sarcastic on the tip of his tongue, something like _god only knows_ , but when he looks up he forgets what he was about to say. Dave is gazing at him, red eyes full of warmth and his lips quirked up into a smile that makes Karkat’s stomach flutter and his breath hitch.

He used to see that expression on his parents’ faces when he was a kid, still sees it on couples in the street sometimes. For a long time he was certain no one would ever look at _him_ like that, and yet here Dave stands, staring at him like he hung the stars in the sky while Karkat grumpily scrubs at his arm.

Karkat drops the loofah and steps into Dave’s space, backing him against the wall to kiss him soundly. How could he fucking not, with Dave looking at him like that? Karkat’s still exhausted, worn down and dead tired and fucking hungry, but all of that falls away when he’s pressed against Dave. 

He runs a finger along Dave’s words--Karkat’s words, on his arm, there forever--and smiles as Dave shivers.

“Sensitive?” he asks, doing it again.

-

Karkat stares at Dave openly for a moment before dropping the loofah to the shower floor and stepping forward. He backs Dave against the wall, boxing him in as he presses their lips together. Dave jumps a little at the cold shower tile pressing into his back and ass, but a trill of shivers rakes pleasant but fiercely through his whole body when Karkat runs a finger along Dave’s words.

“Fuck, baby,” Dave gasps out when Karkat does it again, another large shiver making his entire body shudder. “Does—does it feel like that when I touch your mark, too?”

It was so intense. And it only felt like that when Karkat did it. The doctor had touched Dave’s arm in the exact same way, but Dave didn’t feel a thing. Not even the slightest tickle. It was like he had no sensation in that part of his arm, unless he or Karkat touched it. When Dave touched his own mark, it was just like...touching his arm. But when Karkat did it...it was like striking two frayed wires together and Dave was jolted by the sparks.

Dave realizes he actually hasn’t touched Karkat’s words since his own were revealed. He reaches out for Karkat’s forearm while he peppers kisses along Karkat’s strong jaw.

He grazes the tips of his fingers along Karkat’s words, still shivering from the aftershock of Karkat touching his own soulmark.

-

The feel of Dave touching his mark has dulled since his words first appeared, but it still feels good. Feels like his nerve endings are primed and ready, just waiting for Dave’s fingers to brush them and send little tingling sparks along his arm.

“You get used to it,” he says, tilting his head to give Dave better access to his jaw and neck. “Your mark’s been covered so it’s probably pretty intense, right?”

He smiles, stepping back the tiniest bit and lifting Dave’s arm up. He bows his head and presses his lips to the words and then, because he’s a little shit, draws a line down them with the tip of his tongue. Dave gasps and jolts, his feet slipping along the floor, and Karkat keeps him upright with an arm around his waist.

When he’s sure Dave won’t topple over without him, he steps back, releasing him, and says, “we should finish showering, babe. Don’t wanna waste too much water.”

-

Dave watches as Karkat lifts up his arm and kisses the words. Karkat’s lips have never felt more soft and warm. He jumps and lets out a little gasp when Karkat flicks his tongue along his soulmark. It sends a jolt of electricity up and down Dave’s arm, and leaves Dave feeling like there’s sparks sputtering out of the top of his head.

His legs turn to jelly and he slips a little, but Karkat keeps him upright. Dave is still shivering as Karkat lets him go, his eyelids fluttering.

“Y-yeah...” Dave says quietly, “right.”

Dave’s entire arm is tingling. The spot where Karkat’s lips and tongue still feel warm, like Karkat’s still kissing him there.

Christ. Karkat said Dave would get used to this feeling, but he never saw Karkat react like this to his soulmark getting touched. Was it really because the mark had been covered up for so long? Because as much time as Dave had spent wishing that the words were there, he spent the other half doubting their existence. Which if the inflammation and near-rejection was anything to say about it, was just as bad as denying the words were there in general.

Now that his soulmark was finally exposed, now that Dave no longer had any doubts, now that his soulmate could finally touch Dave’s soulmark...

It was like skin healing from a burn. Prickling and hot and extra-sensitive to the slightest breath of air, the gentlest touch of skin.

Dave is fucking half-hard just from a kiss on his arm, for Christ sake.

He wonders how far they could take it.

-

Dave’s pupils are blown wide and Karkat feels a bit bad for teasing him, honestly. He picks the loofah back up and they make quick work of scrubbing down and washing their hair. Dave gives his arm one last good rub down and then they rise off and climb out of the shower. They dry off and Karkat grabs their dirty clothes in his arms.

John isn’t home and probably won’t be for awhile, so there’s no need for either of them to cover up before heading back to Dave’s room. Karkat quickly changes into a pair of pajama pants and a soft sweater before he glances at Dave.

“Excited not to have to wear button ups all the time?” he asks, smiling. He wonders if he can convince Dave to give him a head rub now that he has both hands available. Maybe Karkat can even get a nap in there, if he’s lucky. 

-

Karkat gets the loofah again and if Dave nearly passes the fuck out watching Karkat bend over, that’s for him to know and nobody else to find out.

Dave lets Karkat wash down with the loofah while he washes his hair, since he kind of needs a break from having his arm touched if he’s gonna get through this shower without his dick bursting. 

They finish cleaning up, Dave gives his arm one more (gentler) scrub down, and then they step out and dry off. They head into the bedroom, and Dave makes a beeline for his dresser to grab some pajama pants...

Then he opens Karkat’s bottom drawer and yanks out a sweater and quickly puts it on before Karkat can say shit all about it. He washed his arm pretty damn good, he’s pretty sure he isn’t gonna get any stank on it. 

He’s able to yank on the sweater without any issues and wow, he hasn’t been able to put on anything like this on his own in ages. Dave pops his head out of the top of the sweater and looks over at Karkat and grins. 

“Yeah, this is _way_ better.” Dave says.

-

Oh fuck, Dave is going to kill him.

Karkat’s sweater is baggy as shit on him, hanging off his shoulder and making Karkat’s heart thump loudly. Dave is grinning smugly, like he somehow managed to pull one over on Karkat instead of giving him a gift.

He walks over to Dave and rests his hands on his boyfriend’s slim hips, kissing him softly.

“You look good in my clothes,” he says, then kisses him again. 

His growling stomach interrupts the moment and he sighs. 

“I should eat something,” he says, frowning down at his stomach before looking back up at Dave. “Are you hungry?”

-

Karkat walks over slowly to Dave, and his hands reach out. For a half a second Dave expects Karkat to grab the hem of the sweater and yank it off of him, grumbling something about stealing his fucking clothes when his arm reeks, but Karkat doesn’t do that.

Instead he puts his big, warm hands on Dave’s bony-ass hips and pulls him close to kiss him. Dave makes a little noise in the back of his throat between pleasure and surprise as he melts into the kiss.

Karkat pulls away, his voice low and rumbling as he tells Dave he looks good. Dave shivers, letting out a soft sigh as Karkat kisses him again.

Then Karkat’s stomach grumbles so loudly that Dave almost mistakes it for a sudden thunderstorm outside.

“Jesus, babe, you must be starving,” Dave says, grabbing Karkat by the wrist and pulling him out of the room. “C’mon.”

He brings Karkat out to the living room and uses both hands to shove Karkat by the shoulders down onto the couch.

“Sit, and don’t you dare move,” Dave tells him.

He was doting on this boy come hell or high water. Dave had both hands now, he could hold his own if Karkat wanted to get fuckin’ scrappy about it.

“I mean it. If you leave this couch I’m gonna have to strap you down,” Dave warns as he walks into the kitchen.

Okay, food time. Thankfully they’ve still got lots of leftovers left from Karkat’s dad, and that was after giving a bunch to all of Karkat’s friends, and Dave giving some to Rose and Jade, too. Plus John helping him and Karkat work through what remained afterward.

He pulls the container of pulled pork out of the fridge and pops it right in the microwave. Then he gets some buns, cuts them up, and shoves them in the toaster. The microwave beeps and the toaster pops up the bread as Dave pours drinks, rips open a bag of chips, and gets a bottle of barbecue sauce out of the fridge.

He slaps a hefty amount of pulled pork onto the buns, drizzles a little BBQ on each one, and presses the top bun down.

Each plate gets a generous side of potato chips. Dave picks up the plates and heads back out to the living room, setting them down on the coffee table.

He goes back into the kitchen to get their drinks and once that’s done, he grabs Karkat’s plate before he can even reach for it himself and hands it to him before Dave sits down beside him and takes his own plate.

Dave takes a big bite from his sandwich, relishing in the fact he can finally use both hands to pick up his food to eat.

“Eat up, kitten, after this you’re gettin’ the mother of all head rubs,” Dave tells him before taking another large bite.

-

Dave pulls him into the living room and Karkat goes without a fight, though he’s confused about why Dave isn’t taking them to the kitchen. When Dave pushes him onto the couch and tells him not to move, Karkat scowls, bewildered, but remains seated as he hears Dave messing around in the kitchen. He’s probably just enjoying being able to use both hands and doesn’t want Karkat hovering, or something.

He gives Dave an odd look when his boyfriend snatches up the plate Karkat was starting to reach for and shoves it into his hands. O...kay? And then Dave calls him _kitten_ again, which makes Karkat’s cheeks flare and knocks any other thoughts out of his head.

Dave called him that at the hospital, too, but Karkat figured it was a one-off thing, because he was having a breakdown. It’s cute, and it makes him feel that curious mix of embarrassed and pleased, and if it was anyone but Dave saying it Karkat would rip their throat out.

“Thanks,” he says, instead of commenting on Dave’s weird behavior. 

He eats quickly, barely tasting the food. He really is fucking starving. He hadn’t eaten since an early dinner last night, and it’s afternoon now. He finishes eating way before Dave, but that’s fine. He leans his head on Dave’s shoulder and rests his eyes, waiting until Dave’s done so he can bring their dishes into the kitchen and wash them.

-

Karkat practically inhaled his food, which is to be expected since it’s the first thing he’s put in his body all day other than black coffee.

Dave is much slower to eat, still taking his time despite having use of both hands. He was always a slow eater, even before he got hindered by a cast.

Eventually he finishes up, kisses Karkat on the top of head before getting up to his feet, squeezing Karkat’s knee as he goes. He gathers up their plates and heads off to the kitchen.

Karkat looks deeply befuddled, and goes to say something but can only sputter on his words. Dave grins to himself as he flits quickly into the kitchen.

“Nooo movingggg!” Dave sings as he disappears past the threshold again.

Next, dessert. Karkat wasn’t big on sweets but he was a fucking chocolate fanatic. Dave grabs some chocolate chunk ice cream out of the freezer, spoons it out into two bowls, cuts up some bananas and drops those in, and tops it all off with chocolate drizzle.

He returns to the living room, holding back a snicker at the petulant look on Karkat’s face, his arms folded tightly.

Dave shoves the mini-sundae at him with a little grin.

“Chocolate banana sundae?” He coos, waggling the bowl, “You know you waaaant iiiit~~”

-

When Dave is finished eating, he scoops up the dishes before Karkat gets the chance, dropping a kiss on his head before walking to the kitchen. Karkat scowls, crossing his arms. He doesn’t know what the fuck Dave is up to with all of this, though he is admittedly being fucking adorable.

Dave takes too long in the kitchen, and Karkat doesn’t hear any running water. When he returns it’s with two bowls of ice cream, and Karkat accepts his, eyebrows furrowing. He squints suspiciously at Dave.

“Are you trying to butter me up to ask for something?” he questions. It isn’t necessary, if that’s the case. But Karkat takes a bite of the sundae anyway, because he’s not going to turn down chocolate.

-

Dave feigns an affronted look. “Why, Mr. Vantas, I’m shocked and appalled.”

Dave leans over and pokes Karkat on the nose.

“You and I both know I wouldn’t have to bribe you,” Dave says with a smirk, “you told me before I could ask for anything, after all.”

Dave hikes his feet up onto the couch and leans back against the armrest as he digs around in his sundae.

“...So want me to treat you to dinner tonight?” Dave asks, looking up at Karkat through his lashes, a little smile pulling the corner of his mouth as he pops his spoon into his mouth.

Karkat said he could ask for anything. It was a little loophole Dave had discovered could work to his benefit. If he asked to treat Karkat to dinner, instead of telling him, Karkat couldn’t tell him no.

...well, he _could_. If he really wanted to. But Dave hopes he doesn’t.

-

Dave really is in a good mood, and Karkat is glad. He loves seeing Dave smiley and happy. But he still doesn’t know what’s going on, and he feels a bit off-kilter because of it.

And Dave is right, of course. All he has to do is ask and Karkat will give him anything he wants, no bribery necessary. Which makes it even more confusing as to why he’s insisting on Karkat waiting around while Dave makes them food.

“You don’t have to do that,” Karkat frowns. “I can make us dinner, baby.”

Or they could eat more of the leftovers from his dad, but if Dave is getting sick of that he doesn’t mind making something else. He takes another bite of his sundae and leans heavily against Dave. 

-

Dave stares Karkat down while the ice cream in his mouth melts. He swallows, sets his spoon in his bowl, and leans over to set his bowl down on the table.

Dave swings his leg over Karkat’s hips and sits down in his lap, looping his arms around Karkat's neck as Karkat blinks up at him, spoon still sticking out of his mouth.

“You,” Dave says in a low, husky voice as he leans down pulling the spoon out of Karkat’s mouth. “are absolutely _impossible_.”

Karkat opens his mouth, and Dave surges forward, closing the distance between them and pinning Karkat’s head against the back of the couch with his lips.

They both taste like chocolate syrup and bananas, their lips and tongues cool at first but quickly warming up again and Dave continues to move his mouth, languid and deep, against Karkat’s.

He pulls away, eyes fluttering open, and he snakes his arms even tighter around Karkat’s neck.

“I _want_ to,” Dave murmurs, “Can’t a guy celebrate finding his soulmate by treating said soulmate to a nice, romantic dinner?”

Dave runs both hands up the back of Karkat’s neck, through his hair, and then cups either side of Karkat’s face, holding him in place as he leans forward again and presses little kisses to Karkat’s cheeks, his nose, his chin...

“You don’t wanna see me get all gussied up? Spend all night spoiling you rotten?” Dave continues, still kissing everywhere but Karkat’s mouth. “Thought you _liked_ romance, baby?”

-

Dave gives him a disbelieving look, sets his bowl down, climbs into Karkat’s lap. Karkat stares up at him, confusion mounting, when Dave calls him _impossible_. He doesn’t get a chance to question him, though, because then Dave is kissing him deeply. Karkat’s never been kissed with a cold mouth before and it’s weirdly intense, but it warms up quickly. Karkat chases Dave’s lips as he pulls away.

_I want to._

Oh. Karkat feels like an idiot. Dave’s been being sweet and romantic, trying to _spoil_ him, and Karkat’s been oblivious to it all. Karkat’s never really been spoiled before, never been doted on, before Dave. He’s always been the one to put in the effort of sweeping his significant other off their feet, with varying degrees of success. It’s strange, being on the other side of it.

“Fuck, sorry,” Karkat stumbles out as Dave kisses all over his face. “I _do_. Like romance. And want that. Fuck.”

God, he’s the least smooth jackass on the planet. Hopefully Dave won’t hold it against him. There probably shouldn’t be a learning curve to letting someone spoil you, but Karkat has a feeling that there will be, for him.

-

“Good,” Dave chirps, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

Dave slides his hands down from Karkat’s face, down his neck, over his shoulders. Fuck, it’s nice to be able to feel Karkat under both of his hands like this. It’s like he’s touching him for the first time all over again. Rediscovering all of the dips and planes of his body.

Dave squeezes at Karkat’s shoulders, kneading his fingers in and rubbing circles into the taut muscles by his neck.

“My poor baby,” Dave croons, “All hungry and sleep-deprived. I’m gonna fix you right up. Can’t have you half-asleep for our big date night.”

Dave runs his hands down Karkat’s shoulders, mouth fucking salivating at how firm and wide they are under his hands. Dave squeezes gently at Karkat’s biceps as he levels Karkat with a telltale look that screams _oh, the things I’m going to do to you._

“Need you rested up,” Dave says, low and soft.

Dave grabs Karkat’s spoon and scoops up a chocolate-coated banana, popping it into his mouth and making a bit of a show pulling the spoon out from between his lips, slowly.

Then, he drops the spoon back into the bowl and climbs out of Karkat’s lap, picking his own bowl back up.

“So finish up your sundae and then you’re going for a nap,” Dave says lightly, popping more of his ice cream into his mouth.

-

Karkat feels caught, pinned beneath Dave’s gaze as hands run down his neck and come to a stop at his shoulders, digging into the muscles. He watches with wide eyes, mouth going dry, as Dave fucking _croons_ at him while feeling him up. His expression is dark and hungry and Karkat would shiver if he weren’t frozen in place.

Any semblance of intelligence he has disappears when Dave steals a piece of his sundae and slides the spoon out of his mouth, a small smear of chocolate by the corner of his lips. His throat bobs as he swallows.

A noise of genuine distress falls from Karkat when Dave climbs out of his lap and he shoots Dave a wounded look. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he glances down at his ice cream, which seems far less appetizing now that Dave’s went and dangled himself in front of Karkat.

Still, a nap would be good. If he can manage one. He takes a bite of his sundae and glances at Dave.

“Are you still gonna give me a head rub?” he asks, voice sounding too much like a needy whine for his liking. His eyes snap right back to his bowl.

-

Dave looks over at Karkat as he takes another bite of his dessert. He’s about ready to chuck the bowl into outer space and leap across the couch like a fucking leopard with the downright _adorable_ look on Karkat’s face and the hopeful neediness in his voice.

Karkat quickly looks away, looking deeply embarrassed. There’s a little Dave inside Dave’s mind that’s just...curled up in the fetal position because it cannot handle this amount of cuteness from a singular source. It isn’t fucking fair. How does Karkat expect Dave to wait until tonight to jump his bones?

Well, Karkat doesn’t expect anything. Dave hasn’t said anything about it, but...well, it had to be fairly redundant at this point. Obviously Dave was going to fuck Karkat into next week. Like, that shit was just inevitable. He had use of both arms and found out one of those arms has Karkat’s soulmark on it.

Karkat was… _his_. For some reason, the possessiveness of the particular thought doesn’t freak him out. If anything, it only makes him hungrier.

“Of course, Kitkat,” Dave says, “How else would I get you to go down for an afternoon nap without a head massage from your fresh boy Dave? Now with an upgrade.”

He holds up his hand and wiggles his fingers around for emphasis.

“Gonna put all ten of these puppies to use, scoop you up and carry right off to nap town.”

-

Karkat snorts as Dave wiggles his fingers, a hand coming up to grab one of them and pull it down while the other shoves another bite of ice cream into his mouth. He’s slightly appeased, at least.

They finish up their desert and Karkat watches, amused, as Dave snatches up their dishes once more before Karkat has a chance to even try doing it himself. When Dave returns, Karkat raises an eyebrow.

“Are we going into the bedroom or does your ‘Karkat is grounded to the couch’ rule extend to naps as well?” he asks. “How far do you plan to take this? Are you going to break your back trying to carry me after you just healed one broken bone?”

-

Dave crosses his arms and gives a little huff.

“I resent the implication that I couldn’t bridal carry your ass through any goddamn threshold I so pleased.” Dave grumbles, “I know I’m not the most jacked motherfucker on the planet but it takes a lot of leg and core strength to skateboard.”

Dave has not ridden his skateboard in over a month, and he can feel Karkat getting a smartass comment about that very fact locked and loaded. So before he can do any such thing, Dave walks over and holds out his arms, squatting down to tuck one under Karkat’s knees and the other at the small of Karkat’s back.

“I won’t take this slander under my own roof. Get over here. I’ll show you, motherfucker. Prepare to swoon your goddamn face off.”

Dave plants his feet into the ground, engages his core, and heaves Karkat up off of the couch. He does his very best not to wheeze.

Yeah, he was definitely out of shape. If he hadn’t been making up for the lost cardio with sex, there was no way he’d be pulling this off right now. He makes a mental note to start boarding again first thing tomorrow. But for now, he had to focus on carrying Karkat to bed without dropping him.

-

It was less a comment about Dave’s capabilities and more about Karkat’s weight, but Dave takes it as a personal slight, and before he knows what’s happening Dave is awkwardly scooping him into his arms while Karkat squawks.

“Dave--What--put me down!” he says, flailing. This doesn’t help at fucking all and Dave stumbles. “You’re going to hurt yourself, idiot!”

Dave’s had an arm out of commission for weeks and hasn’t been on his skateboard in exactly as long, and Karkat’s a big dude. There’s no way this is going to end in anything but disaster.

To his credit, Dave gets about halfway down the hall before his arm gives out and Karkat goes sprawling across the floor, the breath knocked out of him. He stares up at Dave, who looks suitably guilty.

“ _Why_?” Karkat demands, letting his head fall back against the carpet.

-

Karkat flails in Dave’s arms like he’s being fucking abducted, and Dave staggers severely, shooting out his foot to steady himself a bit before daring another wobbly step.

“Stop squirming around, you fuckin’—“

Dave’s thin, weak noodles for arms give out and he fucking drops his poor soulmate to the goddamn floor. Karkat wheezes as he hits the floor, loud enough to drown out Dave’s cry of “SHIT, fuck, babe, I’m so sorry—“

Karkat looks up at him accusingly, and yeah, Dave totally deserves that. Dave grabs Karkat’s hands and pulls him up onto his feet.

Dave is bright red and seems to only keep getting darker as the two of them stand there. Well, he fucked that right up in the most spectacular way, didn’t he? So much for making Karkat swoon.

“...Okay that was pretty fucking stupid of me, I won’t lie.” Dave mumbles, “Are you okay?”

-

Karkat glares, crossing his arms, but his annoyance is short lived when faced with Dave’s ashamed, embarrassed expression. 

“I’m _fine_ , you obnoxious nitwit,” Karkat says, rolling his eyes and huffing. “Are _you_ okay? How’s your arm?”

He grabs Dave’s arm to inspect it, like he’s afraid it broke again beneath his weight. He accidentally brushes his fingers against Dave’s soulmark and only realizes it when Dave sucks in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, sorry,” he says, letting go of Dave to run a hand through his hair. God, they’re both fucking disasters. “Let’s just go lay down.”

He grabs Dave’s hand and tugs him the rest of the way down the hall, and gratefully climbs into bed once they reach their room. He sighs loudly. 

“Fuck, I’m so fucking tired.”

-

Dave lets Karkat pull him down the hallway, and as Karkat lays down in bed suddenly Dave’s humiliation is completely forgotten when he realizes he can cuddle with Karkat any way he wants to now.

Karkat’s in the middle of saying how fucking tired he is when Dave clambers excitedly into the bed and lays right on top of Karkat, making the other let out a slight whoof as the air is knocked out of him.

Dave manages to look sheepish, his face still flushed from his previous embarrassment. God, he was so all over the place. Hopefully he didn’t annoy Karkat to death before their date night. If Karkat even still felt like going after Dave dropped him like a sack of potatoes into the floor.

“Um, sorry—“ Dave says quickly, “I’ve just really wanted to do this for a long time.”

Dave drops his head down onto Karkat’s chest and wraps both arms around his waist. Karkat was so warm and solid and smelled so good...the world’s best pillow. Dave nuzzles his face in deeper to Karkat’s shirt, hiding his red face.

“Okay okay, I’m letting you nap now, I promise,” Dave says, “I promised you a head rub, after all. Can’t really do it like this.”

Dave slides off of Karkat and leans back a bit against the wall, spreading his legs and patting his thighs, “C’mere, lay in my lap. Let me get all up in those thick locks and get this nap train rollin’.”

-

Dave is so fucking adorable, holy shit. He faceplants into Karkat’s chest, rubbing his face all over and squeezing him with both arms. Karkat isn’t even able to recover from his surprise and wrap his arms around Dave in return before Dave is scrambling off and moving away.

He makes a mental note to try sleeping like that, tonight. He’s gotten used to sleeping with his head on Dave’s chest, but Dave’s a stomach sleeper; he’ll be more comfortable laying on Karkat, he thinks, even if he will miss the sound of Dave’s heartbeat in his ear.

Karkat watches him, amused and entirely endeared as Dave scoots back. Dave seems hyperactive in his joy and Karkat wishes he had the energy to celebrate with him, but he’s exhausted and Dave’s lap makes an excellent pillow.

He presses a quick kiss to Dave’s pink cheek before laying down in his lap, eyes slipping shut immediately as he feels a hand sink into his hair. He can’t believe he went for so many years without knowing how this felt. Thinking back to before he met Dave seems so fucking bleak and hopeless and colorless, like an anti-depressant commercial before the meds kick in.

There’s more truth to that than he’d maybe like to admit. Dave makes a lot of his shit easier to deal with. He still has bad days, days where he’d rather stay in bed than face the world, days where a panic attack is one wrong word away, nights where he can’t sleep, but they’re growing fewer and farther between with Dave at his side. And facing the fallout of them is much less terrifying when he knows Dave is there supporting him.

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, because saying all of that seems like a lot of effort right now.

-

Karkat kisses his cheek, which has Dave squirming with barely-contained glee, and then Karkat sets himself down in Dave’s lap.

Dave starts just by running his hand through Karkat’s hair, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. He smiles warmly at Karkat’s words, bringing up his other hand to start stroking all fingers through Karkat’s curls.

“I love you, too.” Dave says quietly.

He brings his hands to Karkat’s temples and starts to move his thumbs around in slow circles while the pads of his fingers press and knead into multiple points at the base of Karkat’s skull.

“Get some sleep, baby,” Dave whispers as he continues his massage.

-

Dave playing with his hair and rubbing at his scalp with one hand was already fucking bliss, but with two Karkat is almost overwhelmed. He sighs as tingles begin spreading across his skin, nuzzling his cheek into Dave’s thigh. 

It’s like Dave’s fingers are able to sap any lingering tension and anxiety from him that he didn’t know was still clinging on. In minutes he’s lax and limp, breathing evenly, and trying to cling to awareness so that he can keep enjoying the feeling. It isn’t much longer that he’s slipping into sleep, the long day catching up with him, feeling warm and safe in Dave’s presence.

-

Dave feels Karkat get more and more relaxed underneath him as he continues with the head massage, until his breathing is slow and even, his face soft and relaxed. Eventually Karkat’s mouth parts slightly and his breathing gets even slower and heavier, the telltale signs of a Karkat who’s completely out cold and not just in a sleepy trance.

Hell yeah. Mission fucking accomplished.

Dave keeps up the head massage for a while longer until eventually he’s just running his fingers gently through Karkat’s hair, combing through the curls. Then he moves his hands down to Karkat’s chest, watching his hands go slowly up and down with the rise of and fall of Karkat’s chest.

From this angle, Dave can look over Karkat’s features from above. His full lips pouting out in his sleep, his full and dark lashes. His cute, round cheeks juxtapositioned by a strong jawline.

Karkat was so goddamn beautiful.

Dave looks down at Karkat’s arm, smiling at the little words there which state that very fact. Then he looks to his own arm, and his smile grows. Leave it to Karkat to make sure Dave had the word ‘fuck’ on his arm for the rest of his life. Dave wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dave reaches down slightly to Karkat’s arm, gently running the pad of his thumb along the word _beautiful_.

Karkat wouldn’t have to keep checking his arm to know—Dave was going to make sure Karkat knew it, every day. No matter what.

And he’d start tonight. He was absolutely going to ravish Karkat and there wasn’t a damn thing Karkat could do to—

Okay, well, Karkat could say he was still too tired and call it an early night. He hadn’t slept at all last night, so if he was still groggy tonight after dinner then Dave was cool to just crash early, finally get to sleep on his stomach again. Hopefully on Karkat’s chest.

...But if Karkat was down to clown tonight, then Dave was absolutely going to ravish him. No doubt about it.

-

Karkat sleeps soundly; no nightmares, no dreams. It’s a rare peace Dave gives him, and when he slowly comes back to wakefulness it’s to the feeling of warmth beneath his face and a thumb stroking his arm. He doesn’t open his eyes right away, enjoying the fuzzy sleepiness of his limbs and considering trying to drift off again.

Unfortunately, before he has a chance to decide, he yawns. He blinks his eyes open and can’t even be grumpy about it because he’s greeted with the sight of Dave’s handsome face above him, a little smile tugging at his lips. Karkat reaches up to cup his cheek, mind still hazy.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, voice gravelly from sleep. “How long was I out?”

Hopefully not too long. Dave wanted to go out tonight, but Karkat wouldn’t put it past him to push it off until tomorrow so that he could get some sleep. Which would be fine, if that’s what Dave wants, but Karkat doesn’t want to ruin whatever plans he has.

However long he slept, it helped. He feels much more relaxed, less frayed around the edges. Or maybe that was just from Dave’s talented fingers in his hair. Either way, he’s feeling a lot better.

-

Karkat lets out a yawn and his eyes blink open blearily, giving Dave a sleepy smile when he sees Dave looking down at him. Karkat calls him gorgeous in his sexy rough-from-sleep voice and the little inner Dave starts rolling around on the floor making incomprehensible noises.

The outer Dave looks to the digital clock on the bedside table. He honestly had no fucking idea how long it had been. Dave lets out a little laugh when he sees the time, then looks back down to Karkat and hefts an eyebrow.

“Well, looks like I’ve been sitting here ogling your handsome face for almost two hours now.” Dave says lightly.

-

Karkat blinks a few times. Two hours wasn’t that bad. He rolls over so that he’s facing Dave’s stomach and buries his face there, into his own sweater that Dave is still wearing. He thinks he gets why Dave is so fond of doing this now.

He lets out a contented sigh before sitting up and stretching the sleep out of his limbs. Then he looks at Dave and his heart feels full to the brim, so he has to lean in to kiss him before it overflows.

“Thanks for looking out for me, baby,” he says, eyes half-lidded. He presses kisses along Dave’s jaw. “Are you sure you wanna go out tonight? We can stay in.”

Is John back yet? They might be able to get a quickie in before he comes home and they have to keep it down.

-

“And miss out on the chance to romance the shit out of you with a candlelight dinner? Fuck no,” Dave says, kissing at Karkat’s cheek as his boyfriend kisses across his jaw, “unless you ain’t feeling up to it. I can always cancel the reservations.”

As soon as he had the doctor’s appointment booked, he’d started putting things into motion. Unbeknownst to Karkat, of course. Reservations were made, and while Karkat had been sleeping Dave had taken some time to message his friends, letting them all know the good news about his words. He then instructed John to keep himself fucking busy after work tonight. John had sent a bunch of eyeroll emojis but said he would go hang out with Rose.

Everything was all set. But if Karkat wanted to stay in tonight and just cuddle up on the couch with some rom-coms or whatever, that was fine, too. He would let Karkat set whatever pace he wanted to go at, and Dave would follow through.

-

Karkat pulls away, eyes widening in surprise.

“You made reservations?” he asks. “Where?”

Karkat’s… never actually been taken out on a date before. He’s always been the one to plan things. There’s an undercurrent of excitement running through him at the thought that Dave might have actually put thought into this. Not that Karkat didn’t adore going out to random, unplanned places, but it’s flattering, that Dave would put effort into this when he already has everything Karkat can give him.

“I’m up to it, babe,” Karkat assures him, trying to hold back a smile. Not only did Dave go out of his way to make reservations, he wouldn’t even be pissed if Karkat wanted to stay in. A very small voice in his head that sounds surprisingly like Dave points out how unhealthy it seems that Karkat is touched by this, but he decidedly ignores it. “Just thought you might wanna take advantage of John not being home yet.”

-

Dave gives Karkat his patented eyebrow waggle. “Oh, I still very much plan to do that.”

Dave snakes his arms around Karkat’s waist, pulling him close so he can peck him on the nose, then the cheek. He keeps his lips near Karkat’s ear so he can whisper unnecessarily into it.

“I told him to bugger off tonight,” Dave says hushedly, then kisses Karkat’s earlobe. “He’s going to Rose’s tonight. And based on the winky emoji Rose sent me about three minutes after that was decided, I think she’s gonna keep him as late as possible. So we’re in the clear.”

-

“O-oh,” Karkat squeaks, wincing at the pitch of his voice. God, what is wrong with him today? “You really thought about this, huh?”

He runs a hand through Dave’s hair.

“Your friends are nice,” he notes. “If I tried that with any of mine they’d go out of their way to cockblock me unless I bribed them. And even then it’s 50/50.”

A thought strikes him and he bites his lip. “What kind of place did you make reservations at? Am I gonna have to get out my Kanaya clothes?”

He will either way, most likely, but there are comfy Kanaya clothes, like the sweater he’s fond of, and uncomfy Kanaya clothes, like the shirt that’s made of what amounts to tissue paper and clings to every fat fold he has. Dave is a fan of that one.

Unfortunately there’s nothing he can do about his hair without Kanaya’s help, so that’s already a lost cause.

-

“It’s a steakhouse,” Dave says, “You like steak, and so I figure instead of getting Egbert to fry steaks up in a fucking pan on the stove, we can have some fuckin’ professionals make ‘em tonight.”

Karkat is still biting his lip. He doesn’t have any clue what that does to Dave, does he? Dave reaches up and strokes the skin just under Karkat’s bottom lip.

“You can wear whatever makes you comfy, baby,” Dave tells him, stroking at Karkat’s jaw with his thumb. “Maybe not that button-up, though. The buttons are way too complicated on that fuckin’ thing and I don’t want to incur Kanaya’s wrath, because I would absolutely run out of patience and rip it off you.”

-

Karkat chuckles under his breath, leaning his head into Dave’s hand and marvelling at how sweet he is. Such a massive fucking contrast to all the people he dated before.

“No button up,” he agrees. “I wanna look good for you, though.”

He leans in to kiss Dave before he says something stupid like _you always look good_. If Dave is taking him out on a date he wants to look nice, like someone who might actually stand a chance with Dave if fate didn’t intervene. 

Karkat gets a bit distracted with kissing Dave, and by the time they part it takes him a moment to remember what the fuck they were talking about in the first place. 

-

“You alwa—“ Dave doesn’t get any further with that statement before Karkat leans in to shut him up with a kiss. Dave makes no complaints about this, of course, sighing and melting into the kiss.

Karkat’s hands come up to cup either side of Dave’s face, and Dave presses into the touch. Karkat’s big, warm hands cupping his face make Dave feel safe and secure, like Karkat is handling him like a priceless gem, to be coveted. Dave leans further into the kiss, reaching up to grasp onto the fabric of Karkat’s shirt as their lips move together slowly.

When they pull apart, they're both a little short of breath. Karkat blinks a few times at Dave, and looks briefly puzzled, like he’s trying to remember something or think of something to say. Dave smiles, and bumps their noses together.

“What about that black one?” Dave says, “the long-sleeved one with the...piping and shit. Makes your arms look like fuckin’ cannons. Yummy-yum.”

-

“Piping and shit,” Karkat repeats, grinning. “Please say that to Kanaya.”

He leans in to drop a quick kiss to Dave’s cute nose and says, “Since you requested it I’ll wear it. But only because you’re taking me to a steakhouse. Anywhere else and it would be a baggy sweater and sweatpants for fucking sure.”

He completely disregards the comment about his arms. Dave has some sort of fixation on his biceps that Karkat doesn’t understand. He’s not a fan of his arms, but it’s cute how he can subtly flex while lifting something and Dave goes glassy eyed. 

Karkat kisses Dave once more before climbing out of bed and walking to the closet where he has his ‘Kanaya clothes’ hung up carefully in the back. He grabs the shirt Dave chose and a pair of dark slacks that are unfortunately tight around his thighs but acceptable everywhere else and that Kanaya insists ‘shows off his assets.’

Maybe he’ll even let Dave take a picture of the two of them and send it to her. She’ll probably be thrilled.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last chapter! I hope you've enjoyed! There will be a bonus chapter after this so stay tuned.

Karkat heads over to the closet and Dave lays down on his stomach, chin in his hands and feet swinging to-and-fro giddily as he watches Karkat pull out his outfit for their date.

Hell yeah, dinner and a show. Karkat shucks off his shirt and pyjama pants, kicking them off to the side. Dave unabashedly ogles Karkat’s bare ass while it’s out on display, until Karkat pulls on boxers and his slacks. Dave would be more disappointed, but the pants actually accentuate Karkat’s ass in...a very distracting way. God bless Kanaya Maryam. What a miracle worker. She somehow knew how to make Karkat’s already poppin’ ass even more poppin’. That was fucking dangerous.

Karkat also has tree trunk thighs that look like they could crush a man’s skull given enough motivation, and the pants showed them off in all the right ways too. Goddamn goddamn _goddamn_. Was Dave drooling? He’s pretty sure he’s drooling. Karkat standing there still shirtless and in tight pants that show off his incredible thighs and plump ass is making Dave want to reach for his phone, cancel the reservations, then beckon Karkat back to bed right that instant. But he resists.

Karkat puts on the black shirt next, and mmmm, yep, Dave swears the fabric has magic powers because it just does something to Karkat’s arms. Also he just looks really fucking hot in black. Sweet merciful Jesus, what a fox. Dave was gonna have to pull out all the fucking stops in order to come even remotely close to looking as good for their date as Karkat does right now.

“Watch your step,” Dave says, “pretty sure there’s a puddle on the floor from how much I’ve been over here drooling. You’re a fuckin’ knockout, Karkat. Also, can I drive tonight?”

-

Karkat rolls his eyes at being called a _knockout_ , even as his stomach flips at the compliment. He turns around to correct Dave and snorts at the position his boyfriend is in, chin resting on his hands as his feet kick back and forth in the air. He looks like a teenage girl in a coming of age movie, complete with the starry-eyed look, too.

He’s going to give Dave shit about _that_ instead, but then the last part of Dave’s sentence pierces his brain and he pauses.

“You can drive?” he asks, completely caught off guard.

He doesn’t know why he assumed, but he just figured Dave rode his skateboard everywhere or took a bus or something.

-

“Yeah,” Dave says, “Me and John took the road tests together, but we just never wound up buying a car. I pretty much rode my board everywhere and took the bus for anything too far.”

Dave gives a little shrug.

“I mean, it’s been a while, but it’s just driving to the restaurant and back. I’m the one taking you out, so it feels weird to make you drive. Wanna give you the full experience, y’know?”

Dave flushes a little and looks away. Maybe that was asking for too much. That was a lot of trust to ask of Karkat, letting Dave drive when he didn’t do so regularly.

“It’s cool if you don’t want me to, though,” Dave says, still idly swinging his legs.

-

Karkat raises an eyebrow as Dave glances away. 

“You can drive, I don’t mind,” he says, coming to join Dave on the bed. “I was just surprised.”

He takes up the same position as Dave, right next to him, and nudges him with his shoulder until Dave looks at him. He gives him a grin.

“So do I get to watch you get dressed now or what?” he asks. He’s probably going to get his clothes wrinkled, laying like this, but Kanaya isn’t here to scold him so he doesn’t give a shit.

-

Karkat lays in bed next to Dave and nudges Dave in the shoulder. Dave smiles at Karkat’s grin, and then a little laugh bursts out of him as Karkat’s chin rests in his hands and his legs kick up, mirroring Dave.

“That seems only fair,” Dave says lightly, nudging Karkat back.

He rolls off the bed and goes over to his dresser, pulling out some briefs and socks and a belt. Then he rummages through his drawers trying to find that one pair of pants he owns that are actually, by some definition, considered “nice”—some black flat-front trousers.

Dave grabs the back of Karkat’s hoodie that he’s wearing and pulls it off, giving his head a little flick to get the hair out of his eyes after the hoodie messes it up somewhat.

He looks over at Karkat, now just in pyjama pants and shades. Dave gives Karkat a eyebrow wiggle as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and slides them down his legs, kicking them off to the side.

The look on Karkat’s face is fucking priceless. Dave’s glad him standing there with a soft dick and an even softer belly after all the food Karkat’s shoved down his gullet without Dave being able to burn it off with hours of skateboarding was still enough to make Karkat’s eyes go all big and his cheeks to fill with colour.

Dave lets out a small laugh, then reaches for the briefs, stepping into them. Then socks. Now he feels a bit like Tom Cruise from Risky Business, but only all the goofy parts and none of the sexy parts. Karkat’s look says otherwise, but well, he was a biased party.

Dave pulls on the trousers, and slides the belt through the loops, but leaves everything undone as he steps over to the closet and pulls out his dark red dress shirt. It was the one he had considered wearing before when he wanted to look nice for Karkat, but he couldn’t fit his cast in the sleeves. Now he wouldn’t have that issue.

Dave pulls the shirt off the hanger, pulls it on and does it up, still turned towards the closet.

Karkat could watch him unbutton it later. That was much more exciting. Also, wow, buttons were so much fucking easier with two hands. Dave had become an old pro doing it one-handed, so he makes quick work of the buttons with two.

He tucks the shirt under the pants, and does up the trousers and secures the belt. Yeah, that’s right—stop the fucking presses, Dave was tucking his shirt in. That’s how you know he means business.

He turns around as he adjusts the cuffs of the sleeves, rolls his shoulders to make sure everything’s sitting in the right spot, then looks up at Karkat and holds out his arms.

“There,” Dave announces, “Ready for a night on the town.”

-

Karkat feels like he should subtly wipe his mouth as he watches Dave strip down. Dave was hot before Karkat started forcing him to eat regularly but with a little belly he’s even hotter, and he grins smugly at Karkat like he knows it as he stands there, entirely naked, and Karkat tries not to drool. He always forgets how much Dave likes putting on a fucking show.

He is incredibly tempted to go over, tell Dave to forget about the reservations and get on his knees to suck Dave off before fucking him against the wall. But Dave is excited about this, and Karkat is too, so he holds back as Dave gets dressed.

“You look great, Dave,” Karkat says appreciatively as Dave turns around. He really fucking does. His pants show off his perky little ass and he fucking _tucks his shirt in_ , which is hopelessly endearing. The fact that it’s endearing at all is probably a sign that Karkat is so fucking far gone on this boy.

He pushes himself up off the bed and walks over, placing his hands on Dave’s shoulders and running them down the planes of Dave’s chest, pretending to smooth out wrinkles that aren’t there, before letting his hands drift to rest at Dave’s waist.

“So fucking gorgeous, babe,” he says, pressing their lips together.

-

Karkat walks toward him and Dave feels himself holding his breath a little, his spine tingling with anticipation. Like his body just knows when Karkat is getting closer and it’s calling out to him across the short distance, saying _yes, please, close this gap_.

Dave smiles as Karkat smooths out his shirt, and then runs his hands down Dave’s chest and rests them on Dave’s waist, just above the belt. Dave gives a pleased little hum, running his hands up Karkat’s chest in turn. He fucking loves when Karkat’s grabs him by the waist, in literally any configuration. From the front like this before he leans in for a kiss, from the back, when they’re standing side by side and Karkat snakes his arm around Dave’s middle.

Dave feels his whole body burn up when Karkat calls him _fucking gorgeous_. God, he’s so smitten and besotted with this boy, it’s absolutely ridiculous. Dave isn’t sure how he’s going to get through this date without melting into a puddle. But he would have to, if he wanted to enjoy the aftermath.

Karkat kisses him soft and sweet, his thumbs digging into Dave’s hip bones with the perfect amount of pressure. Dave’s hands keep running up Karkat’s chest, then up and over his shoulders, looping his arms around Karkat’s neck.

He’s so happy he can hold Karkat like this, now. It’s all he could ever think about when they kissed—that he wasn’t doing it to his fullest potential. Kissing Karkat was a reverent experience every time, and deserved to be treated as such.

Finally their lips part, and if neither of them needed air Dave is certain they’d never let the moment end.

“Ready to go?” Dave asks quietly.

-

Having both of Dave’s hands on him is so fucking good, fucking amazing. Karkat can’t believe he’s been missing out on this for weeks, months. It’s a good thing he didn’t know what he was missing, before.

“Mmm, almost,” he murmurs, when Dave asks if he’s ready. He kisses him again, and again, before forcing himself to step back. Dave’s lips against his are addictive and Karkat could spend hours upon hours kissing him if Dave would let him. Dave might get bored of that eventually, but Karkat never would.

“Alright,” he breathes. “Let’s go.”

He tosses Dave the keys as they put their shoes on and head out. Dave has to adjust the driver’s seat and Karkat rolls his eyes. Dave isn’t a terrible driver, thank god. Karkat doesn’t have to grip the handle above his head for dear life or anything, instead plugging in his phone and choosing some music to play while they drive. 

He feels like he’s practically vibrating in his seat in excitement. It’s dumb as shit, being so over the moon about being taken out on a date, especially since he should be the one spoiling Dave, not the other way around. He’ll have to figure out a way to make it up to him.

-

Dave lets out a breathy little laugh as Karkat goes in for more kisses. He would never get enough of Karkat's kisses--if Karkat wanted to spend all day laying in bed and kissing Dave, then Dave would have no problems with that whatsoever.

Eventually Karkat lets Dave go, still looking reluctant to do so. They head out to the front door, and Karkat tosses Dave his keys which he snatches out of the air. That would have been quite a feat for Dave to pull off with a cast on, one that likely would have resulted in him missing the keys by a country mile and watching them drop unceremoniously to the floor. So needless to say a big fucking grin breaks out across his face when he manages to catch the keys effortlessly.

Karkat's big, but his legs are shorter than Dave's, so when he gets into the driver seat some adjustments are in order so he doesn't feel like he's driving in a fucking clown car. He doesn't miss how Karkat rolls his eyes, but decidedly ignores his sassy little bitch of a soulmate and turns on the car. It takes a moment for Dave to get the feel for driving back, but thankfully not much longer than pulling out of his apartment's parking lot and out onto the street. Karkat doesn't look fucking terrified with Dave behind the wheel, and Dave would think Karkat was only doing it to be polite if he didn't know Karkat well enough to know that if Dave was indeed a bad driver, Karkat would be letting Dave hear all about it. But instead Karkat throws his own music on for a change as they drive to the restaurant.

It's a little past sundown, that perfect twilight hour where everything is cast in a cool light. There was apparently a Golden Hour for selfies, and while Karkat would probably look just as good in that lighting too, Dave thinks this sort of pale blue, overcast hue the world has at this time of day makes Karkat look extra good. Maybe if Dave asked nice enough Karkat would agree to a little twilit photoshoot sometime. They get to the restaurant and Dave decides he's gonna be a tad of a show-off and back into his parking spot. He's sure to pick a spot without any other cars around but still not too far a walk from the front doors of the steakhouse, just so Karkat doesn't have to worry about Dave fucking up royally and backing into a car.

The main reason Dave wants to back in is so that he can do the maneuver that Karkat does every time he backs into a spot. Which is rare, because Karkat backs into parking spaces only when absolutely necessary. But the rarity of it only made Dave appreciate it all the more when it happened. It probably won't be as effective, because his guns aren't as big and impressive as Karkat's, but...

Dave spins around the wheel, puts the car in reverse, and then eases his foot off the brake as he twists his torso around to look out the back window. As he does so, he keeps one hand on the wheel, and the other slips around to the back of Karkat's seat. Dave doesn't move his arm until he's positioned into the parking spot.

"Don't move," Dave tells Karkat as he shuts the car off, "just wait right there."

Karkat looks like he wants to say something but Dave is already unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. He rounds the front of the car and goes over to Karkat's door. Dave can see Karkat staring at him in disbelief through the window, and smirks. Then Dave opens the car door and stands aside. "A'ight, now you can get out. Thanks for indulging me."

-

Karkat enjoys not having to be in the driver’s seat for once. Since having the accident, driving has been more anxiety-inducing than it used to be. Still manageable, but there was definitely tension there. It’s nice to just sit and watch the world go by and listen to music. It’s a nice night out.

When Dave pulls into the parking lot he backs into a space, for some reason. Karkat gives him an odd look as he twists around and grabs Karkat’s seat. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on it. Dave’s been weird today, it’s whatever.

Dave makes him wait in the car as he walks around to open Karkat’s door for him. It’s cheesy and over the top and fucking _romantic_ and Karkat is stunned for a moment before he gets out of the car. He leans in to kiss Dave on the cheek.

“You’re the most ridiculous asshole alive,” Karkat tells him in a voice much more suited to the words _I love you so much._

He grabs Dave’s hand as they walk into the restaurant and Dave checks them in. It’s a nice place and Karkat is suddenly worried about how much this might cost. They’re not exactly rolling in cash. But Dave doesn’t seem phased as they’re led to a booth near the window and given menus to look over. Karkat opens his and winces at the prices.

“We should split the bill,” he says. He knows Dave said he wanted to treat him to dinner but jesus christ.

-

Karkat calls him a ridiculous asshole, and Dave grins in response. He knows Karkat tends to throw out names like that when he's flustered and doesn't know how else to handle the situation, so he resorts to calling Dave an asshole. Obviously Karkat has never had anyone treat him to dinner and dote on him hand and foot and Dave was determined to change that. Even if Dave had to force feed Karkat his affection like Karkat was a baby bird.

They get seated inside and Karkat opens up the menu and visibly winces. Dave peers at him over his own menu, his eyes narrowing behind his shades as Karkat says they should split the bill. Good gravy, it was worse than Dave thought. Dave closes his menu, setting it off to the side. Then, he reaches up and pulls off his shades--something he doesn't usually do in public, if he can help it. But the restaurant is dimly lit and they're tucked away in a corner with Dave's back to the rest of the room, so he doesn't mind losing the shades for this. Karkat likes his eyes, after all; he should get to see them for their date.

Dave tucks his shades into the collar of his shirt, and then reaches across the table and rests his hand on Karkat's wrist.

"Karkat," Dave says slowly, "it's fine. I said I'm treating you, so I'm treating you."

Dave offers Karkat a little wink. "You can treat me next time. But tonight, it's my turn. Okay?"

-

Dave takes off his shades, revealing his beautiful eyes, and Karkat melts. Dave doesn’t take his sunglasses off in public; it’s kind of a Thing. Which means he’s doing it just because he knows Karkat loves his eyes, and that makes his chest feel tight in the best way.

“Okay,” he says, barely aware of what he’s agreeing to. Karkat wants to give Dave what _he_ wants, and Dave wants to spoil him so. Karkat will be spoiled. He’ll make it up to Dave somehow; maybe look into if any of the bands he likes that Karkat’s never heard of will be playing nearby sometime soon.

They look over their menus and Karkat tries not to focus on how fucking expensive everything is. He decides on a sirloin steak with a side of fries and a glass of red wine. He tries not to act like he obviously doesn’t belong here when the waiter comes to take their order.

He smiles at Dave across the table, moving his foot to rub against Dave’s ankle. 

“Thanks for this, baby,” he says sincerely. “You didn’t have to.”

Obviously Dave didn’t have to. He _wants_ to, and that’s weirdly thrilling. Karkat isn’t quite sure what to make of it.

-

Karkat acquieses easier than Dave anticipated, and Dave gives Karkat a soft smile in response. Shortly after they look their menus over a waiter comes by and takes their orders. Dave is pleased to see that Karkat doesn't fucking wuss out and order a cheap rinky-dink appetizer or whatever. But he's also glad Karkat doesn't just jump right to the most expensive thing on the menu, either.

Dave decides on the salmon steak, with a side of caesar salad. Karkat may have helped Dave put some meat on his bones, but now he needed to turn that into some muscle. Couldn't go slacking off on his physique just because he landed himself a soulmate, after all. Also he wants to be able to pick up said soulmate and not fucking drop him. Dave needed to get shredded. Besides, salmon steak was still a steak, it wasn't a cop-out. And the reviews said this place's seafood was just as good as the rest of the stuff on the menu.

He doesn't order any wine for himself, since he'll be driving, and wants Karkat to know he actually can be responsible, thank you very much. He's never been a big wine drinker, anyway.

Dave returns Karkat's smile, and it grows even bigger when he feels Karkat bump his ankle with his foot under the table. Dave returns the nudge with his own foot.

"Actually, I kind of did, dude," Dave says with a laugh, "You've done a lot for me, and I wanted to thank you. I mean, this is mostly just me celebrating the fact I got the hottest guy on the planet as my soulmate. And also my cast finally coming the fuck off, in general. But it's also just to like...show you that..."

Dave's cheeks are getting hot, and he finds his words trailing off as he looks at Karkat. His drop-dead gorgeous soulmate and boyfriend who still seems too good to be true. Dave reaches out and grabs Karkat's wrist again.

"Sometimes I still can't believe you're real," Dave says, "That I'm lucky enough to be with you."

His thumb runs back and forth along Karkats wrist, as though Dave is trying to convince himself that Karkat is solid and there beneath his touch. 

"This is going to sound really dumb, but...Karkat, getting hit by your car was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because it brought me to you."

-

Dave orders a salmon steak and a salad, which is a bit odd. Karkat didn’t even know Dave likes seafood, and while he doesn’t turn up his nose at the veggies Karkat makes they also aren’t his favorite things. But he doesn’t say anything, because Dave can eat whatever he wants as long as he’s eating something.

They play fucking footsie under the table as Dave talks. Karkat doesn’t think he’s done much for Dave, personally. He helped him out with things he couldn’t do one handed, but anyone else could have helped him with that. The most Karkat’s done is make sure he didn’t die while he had a concussion and give Dave a few massages. It seems so inconsequential when compared to everything Dave’s done for him.

But Dave thinks that _he’s_ the lucky one, because he’s fucking delusional. Karkat loves him so fucking much. His wrist feels sensitive as shit as Dave touches it, softly rubbing the skin there with his thumb as Karkat’s breath hitches in his throat.

“It does sound dumb,” he says, a smile quirking up the sides of his mouth. “But I get it. I feel the same way. It’s…” He swallows thickly, eyes flitting embarrassedly to the side. “You seem too good to be true. It’s hard to accept that I get to have someone like you in my life.”

His face feels like it’s burning as he stares at their hands. None of the shit he read or watched prepared him for how fucking vulnerable it feels to bare your soul to someone. 

-

Dave's chest goes tight, like Karkat's words are a boa constrictor. He gives Karkat's wrist a squeeze before he pulls Karkats hand up and kisses Karkat's fingers. Karkat had looked off in embarrassment but the gesture pulls his gaze back to Dave's, and Dave gets to watch as Karkat's cheeks fill with dark pink.

"Well, I waited twenty-three years for you," Dave murmurs, "If it's gonna take you some time to accept it, I can totally be patient."

He kisses Karkat's knuckles, then lowers their hands and gives Karkat a smile that he hopes holds everything he doesn't have the words to convey inside of it.

-

Karkat feels pressure building in his eyes and blinks it back. He already cried enough today, he doesn’t want to ruin this date by sobbing all over the table. Even if his eyes are watery as Dave’s lips touch each of his fingers, he manages to not let the tears spill over. 

Dave smiles at him like Karkat’s the only person who matters and it makes him both want to preen and hide away. He smiles back helplessly.

Their food arrives, ruining the moment. Karkat takes a bite of his steak and his eyes flutter shut. It’s fucking delicious, cooked exactly how he likes it. When he opens his eyes he sees Dave staring at him, a tiny smile on his face, and Karkat swallows self-consciously.

“It’s really fucking good,” he says. “Try yours.”

-

Dave picks up his utensils, chuckling. "Just making sure this place was up to snuff with your incredibly high standards." Dave says.

The way Karkat's eyes had fluttered closed and his shoulders drooped like that bite of steak had just solved all of his problems in the world is a pretty good clue that this place probably makes a good fucking steak.

Dave cuts into his salmon and takes a bite. Holy fucking shit.

Dave looks up at Karkat with wide eyes as he chews his bite. He swallows and says, "Holy shit," Dave says, "That's the best thing I've ever put in my mouth besides--"

He pauses. Karkat raises an eyebrow. Dave cuts off another piece of salmon.

"...Too easy." he says.

-

Karkat lets out a small laugh, reaching up to cover his mouth as he devolves into embarrassing giggles. He gives up trying to block out his laughter and just covers his whole face, shoulders shaking until he can pull himself together.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he says, cheeks aching from laughter. 

He shakes his head, going back to eating his delicious food. He cuts off a piece, spears it with his fork, and holds it out for Dave to take.

“Want some?” he asks, wiggling the fork enticingly. If he had Dave’s level of maturity he’d add _of my meat_ to the end of that, but he refrains. It’s tempting, though.

-

Dave expects Karkat to roll his eyes. Maybe give his shin a little kick under the table and hiss at him that they are in a public place, a _fancy_ public place, so Dave should shut the hell up before he gets them kicked out. But instead Karkat laughs, and then he starts _giggling_. And then he has to cover his face completely as he devolves into laughter he does a pretty piss-poor job of keeping quiet. People definitely turn their heads a bit at the sound, but Dave isn't looking at any of them and he couldn't give a shit. Dave is staring at Karkat and committing this moment to memory, willing his brain to record it and then lock the tape in a little box inside his heart and keep it there forever.

Karkat's mirth eventually settles and he goes back to his food. Dave realizes he's just been sitting here staring the whole time, and goes back to his food, too. Karkat holds out a piece of his steak for Dave and Dave lifts his butt off the seat a bit to lean over the table and pop the piece of steak into his mouth, sliding the fork out between his lips and then sitting back down as he chews. He nods in approval, humming appreciatively.

"You like salmon?" Dave asks, cutting off his own piece of his salmon steak and holding out his fork.

-

Dave doesn’t take the fork. Instead he leans over and wraps his lips around it, staring at Karkat the whole time because he’s a fucking tease. He offers Karkat a piece of salmon and Karkat considers it.

“Not a huge fan of seafood but I’ll give it a shot,” he says.

He tries to pull off Dave’s move, lifting up and leaning over to take the food between his lips, sliding it slowly off the fork while maintaining eye contact. He doesn’t think he looks sexy like Dave did. Mostly he feels like an idiot. The steak is good though.

“It’s alright,” he declares, settling back down in his seat. “I think I’ll stick with mine, though.”

-

Karkat was going to kill him.

Dave keeps his fork hovering in the air long after Karkat has sat back down. Eventually he realizes he probably looks like a dingus and lowers his arm back down and gives Karkat a helpless pout.

"Baby," Dave says, "I'm gonna have to ask you to try to turn the sexy down because I'm going to combust. Tonight's supposed to be about me making you swoon, you can't steal a homeboy's thunder like this, it's just not fair. And you probably don't even realize you're doing it, either, which is even worse."

Dave rests his chin in his hand and raises an eyebrow at Karkat. "Or, you are in fact very aware of the effect you have over me and are trying to throw me off my game."

-

Karkat’s brows pull together, face pinching in a confused scowl even as his cheeks grow pink.

“What are you talking about?”

Karkat is certainly not trying to throw Dave off his game; he wanted to make Dave feel just a little bit of the head rushing, heart pounding attraction that Karkat felt. Which worked apparently too well?

-

"I'm talking about how every little, microscopicly mundane fucking thing you do drives me crazy," Dave says, "The good crazy, obviously, but--fuck. And every time I try to give you a taste of your own medicine, you come right back with something even cuter and sexier and irre-fuckin'-sistible that makes me just wanted to kiss your brains out and never stop, uh...ever."

Dave is definitely as red as the salmon on his plate right now.

"And you're just like...oblivious to it. Which is just even more irresistible, so I can't win, either way. Even making you aware of the fuckin' grip you have on me just sounds like...nothing remotely close to a bad thing. Sounds like a surefire way to nut in my goddamn trousers on a daily basis, but I mean...whether you do it unconsciously or not, you ain't gonna find me complaining."

-

Dave’s face is as red as his eyes and Karkat’s sure his own face matches. He knows Dave finds him attractive for some unfathomable reason, but it’s not like he tries to weaponize it. 

He reaches across the table to grab Dave’s hand, twining their fingers together.

“Dave,” he says quietly. “You are so fucking gorgeous and sexy it’s difficult for me to think around you. Everything you do is so fucking impossibly endearing if feels like my heart is going to explode out of my chest.”

He thought this was obvious. Dave has caught him staring so many times it’s fucking embarrassing. Dave has grace in his long limbs, in the way he walks and moves silently and it’s fucking hypnotic.

“Maybe I don’t show it enough,” Karkat continues, “but you affect me so goddamn much I don’t know how to handle it.”

He squeezes Dave’s hand and gives a soft smile.

“I’ll never say no to kissing you, though, so feel free to kiss my brains out at every available opportunity.”

-

It's not like Karkat hasn't called Dave gorgeous and sexy before, but somehow in this moment it seems to carry a lot more heftiness to it. Like Dave is actually hearing it for the first time, and possibly even coming a little bit closer to seeing himself through Karkat's lens. Staring to get a vague idea of what it is about himself that Karkat finds honest-to god charming and endearing.

Karkat squeezes Dave's hand and smiles at him, soft and warm and loving and true. Dave puts his own hand over Karkat's, and squeezes back.

"I am definitely going to be taking you up on that." Dave says, low enough so nobody else could hear if they tried.

-

He hopes Dave does. He hopes they can put aside a day just to watch movies or hang out and kiss all day and not have it lead to sex. Not that Karkat doesn’t want to fuck Dave, but he’s still kind of blown away by the fact that sex doesn’t _have_ to happen. He wants to spend a whole goddamn day kissing and cuddling his soulmate.

They chatter quietly while they eat their food. It’s fucking delicious, and Karkat savors every bite. He’s definitely telling his dad about this; maybe then he’ll get off his back about eating better.

Karkat sips slowly at his wine during the meal. It’ll take a lot more to get him drunk, but he appreciates the very slight buzz it’s given him by the time the waiter comes around to ask if they want dessert. Karkat bites his lip, glancing at Dave, and orders a chocolate lava cake. 

He _is_ supposed to be getting spoiled, after all.

-

The waiter comes around to collect their empty plates, and asks about dessert. Karkat looks at Dave somewhat guiltily before ordering himself a lava cake.

Dave considers just stealing a bite of Karkat’s dessert, but then he spots the apple dumpling parfait and can’t resist the temptation.

The waiter comes back with their desserts several minutes later. Karkat’s lava cake looks rich and decadent as fuck, and Karkat hadn’t even cracked it open to the lava part yet. It sat in the middle of a crisp white plate, decorated with chocolate drizzle, powdered sugar, and several bright red cherries.

Dave’s dessert came in a little glass cup. There were layers of apple dumplings with large chunks of caramelized apples, all layered between strips of custard and whipped cream. The whole thing was topped off with even more whipped cream and a bunch of caramel drizzle.

Dave promises to start working out tomorrow. For tonight, though, he was about to enjoy the hell out of this parfait.

He can’t remember the last time he had an apple pie or anything like that. He’s never tried apple dumplings before, either. Perhaps they were similar?

Dave takes a bite, and then groans around his spoon and quickly goes in for another spoonful.

“Fuuuck me, that’s a damn good parfait.” Dave says, “how’s the lava cake?”

-

Karkat’s mouth waters as he stares at his lava cake. It looks so fucking good Karkat is tempted to whip out his phone and start a foodie instagram account. Instead he takes his fork and carves a small portion off, popping it in his mouth and groaning at the same time Dave does. He glances at him and laughs.

“It’s fucking delicious,” he says. “Holy shit I’m such a slut for chocolate.”

He takes another forkful, making sure to get the warm melted chocolate on it and holds it out for Dave. This time he’s prepared for whatever sexy bullshit Dave decides to pull off.

“Try it.”

-

Karkat holds out his fork again and this time it’s not a chunk of steak but a piece of gooey chocolate cake. Dave smirks, pushing himself out of his seat, leaning over the table and slowly opening his mouth as he looks at Karkat with a half-lidded gaze.

He takes the fork into his mouth and the lava cake melts onto his tongue, warm chocolate practically gliding down his throat. Dave slides his lips off the fork, making sure he wipes it clean, and sits back down as he finishes chewing and swallowing his bite.

Then his tongue comes over and licks over his top and bottom lip, cleaning any remaining chocolate sauce.

“Yummy.” Dave says.

He gets a spoonful of dumpling and cream, and holds out the spoon to Karkat as he rests his chin on his hand.

“Your turn.”

-

Karkat was a fool. He is not prepared.

His eyes snap to Dave’s mouth, watching the way his lips slide over the fork, the way he sees a tiny flash of tongue. He swallows harshly as Dave sits back in his seat and his throat bobs. Then he licks his lips, and Karkat briefly considers tugging Dave into the bathroom and locking the door.

There’s no point trying to out-do Dave when he offers Karkat a bite of his dessert, but he tries anyway. He feels like an idiot, but he leans in and carefully takes the fork between his lips and teeth, mouth twitching up into a smile as he sees Dave’s pupils dilate. He’d wink if he thought he could pull it off, but instead he cocks an eyebrow and pulls off, chewing. He’s so focused on Dave he can barely taste it.

“I’ll never understand your love affair with apples,” he says after he swallows. “Chocolate is clearly superior.”

-

Dave’s pupils definitely expanded like an excited cat watching Karkat eat the apple and cream off his fork, but they shrink right back down at Karkat’s comment.

“I won’t have this slander to the glorious apple at this table,” Dave says, “Apples are fucking amazing. They’re great on their own. They’re great as a drink. Pies, tarts, dumplings, parfaits,” Dave gestures to his dessert for emphasis at this, and his accent really comes out on the word considering how heated he’s getting about his apple defence.

“Not to mention you can pretty much dip them in anything and it tastes good. Peanut butter, almond butter, hazelnut, chocolate sauce, caramel, yogurt, whipped cream, honey. Apples do it all. Chocolate is pretty damn good and I will admit, probably gonna be sexier for food play shit behind closed doors. But that’s it, sex is the one thing chocolate beats apples at.”

-

Karkat smiles, smitten, as Dave raves about apples. He’s wrong, but it’s cute the way his face goes all intense and his accent slips out. Karkat takes another bite of his cake, watching the way Dave waves both of his hands around now that he’s able to. 

“So you admit that chocolate is better for one thing at least,” Karkat nods seriously. “That’s good. We’ll be able to beat this delusion of yours yet.”

Dave’s mouth falls open in offense and Karkat takes the opportunity to swiftly spear another piece of cake, lean forward, and pop it in his mouth before he can say anything else. He gives Dave’s cheek a condescending pat as he sits back down, smirking.

-

Dave’s eyes narrow into accusatory slits as he chews the piece of cake that was forced into his mouth. He quickly chews and swallows the cake, taking a swig of water afterwards and swishing it around in his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s decadent,” Dave says once he swallows the water. He shakes his head a little, “That sorta chocolate is way too fuckin’ rich for my palette.”

Dave loads up his fork with only custard and cream this time. If Karkat isn’t gonna fucking appreciate the apples than he won’t get any. He leans over with his fork, and—suddenly realizing he’s got two hands to work with for this—reaches out his other hand to grab Karkat by the chin, turns his head to the side and smears the cream on his cheek and the corner of his lip.

Dave sits back with a large shit-eating grin on his face at the deeply affronted look on his boyfriend’s cream-covered face.

“I missed.” Dave says.

-

The fucking _audacity_ of this man.

Karkat wipes the cream from his face and licks it off his fingers, glaring at Dave the whole time.

“I shared my chocolate with you,” he says, betrayed. He considers dipping his finger into the chocolate syrup and smearing it across Dave’s face but he doesn’t want to waste the chocolate and besides, they’re in a fancy fucking restaraunt and Dave would _absolutely_ retaliate. It’s up to Karkat to be the mature one and stop this food fight before it starts and they get banned from this place.

He lets it go and takes his time enjoying his dessert until Dave has finished his first, and then holds out the final piece.

“You can have the last bite,” he says. “I’m full.”

When Dave leans over to try to do his sexy show again, however, Karkat moves the fork and swipes it across Dave’s cheek, then pulls the fork back and eats the piece himself. 

“Oops,” he says smugly.

-

Karkat offers up his last bite of lava cake and Dave figures he can really pay Karkat back for besmirching the name of apples by putting on one more show--the grand finale, if you will. So Dave leans over, lets his eyes slipped closed and opens his mouth up wide in the same expression he'd use when he's about to suck--

Chocolate sauce smears across Dave's cheek and Dave opens his eyes in time to see Karkat bring his fork back and take the smuggest bite of cake Dave has ever fucking witnessed. Dave scoffs, shaking his head as he swipes the chocolate off his cheek with the pad of his thumb. He sits back down in his seat and licks his thumb clean, keeping his eyes locked on Karkat.

"Ohh, you're gonna pay for that, baby," Dave warns.

The only thing stopping him from leaping across the table like a goddamn jaguar and kissing Karkat stupid right now was the fact they're in public. But then again, when had that ever become a deterrent for Dave?

"I'm gonna go find the men's room and clean up," Dave says, rising back out of his chair. He makes to leave, but then hesitates, looking at Karkat as though he just noticed something.

"You got a little something on your face," Dave says, gesturing vaguely, not giving Karkat any hints about where to wipe to get rid of it. Then his eyebrows go up and down, though the rest of his face remains neutral.

Then he walks past their table, giving Karkat's shoulder a squeeze as he walks by.

-

Karkat scowls as Dave leaves, waiting until he’s out of sight to wipe at his face. When he doesn’t see anything on his fingers he grumpily pulls out his phone to use the camera. He doesn’t see anything but his stupid ugly face and scowls. Dave’s such a liar.

Instead of tucking his phone away, Karkat snaps a selfie of himself scowling and flipping the camera off. He sends it to Dave without a caption.

The waiter comes by to collect their plates and ask if they want the bill separately. Karkat is very tempted to say yes, if only to get back at Dave one more time, but he has a feeling Dave might be genuinely upset by that so he sighs and says no.

When the waiter leaves, Karkat gets his phone back out and snaps another picture, this time without the middle finger. He sends this one to Kanaya.

-

Dave heads into the bathroom and checks his face in the mirror. He doesn’t have any chocolate on his face except for a tiny amount just on the corner of his mouth, which he flicks away with his thumb.

He turns away from the mirror and does a quick check of the stalls. Looks like none of them were in use.

His phone goes off suddenly and Dave pulls it out to see who was messaging him. John better not be telling him he’s on his way back home already.

Oh. Looks like it was from Karkat. Dave opens up the message to see Karkat sent a photo of himself flipping Dave the bird and scowling his cute little grumpy pout at the camera. Dave lets a little scoff out of his nose in amusement.

If Karkat was taking a picture, he must have noticed he didn’t actually have anything on his face at all. So Karkat didn’t take the hint, huh? Dave supposes it was more like bait.

For all those raunchy books Karkat had read, he certainly could be slow on the uptake when Dave put on the moves. Maybe Dave would have to be a little more specific.

He snaps a selfie, making sure to get his best angle and making his eyes do the little half-lidded smoulder-y thing Dave knows gets Karkat’s blood pumping. AKA, his bedroom eyes.

He sends the picture off to Karkat, and follows it with a quick message.

TG: does this mean youre not gonna join me

-

Dave sends him a selfie in return that has Karkat’s heart tripping over itself and he saves it to his phone without a second thought before he even looks at the text that follows it. He reads it over twice, eyes widening. 

Oh shit. He’s so fucking stupid.

He stands up so fast he rocks the table and has to steady it with his hands. He clears his throat and tries to walk casually to the bathroom, feeling like everyone’s staring at him and well aware of exactly what’s about to go down. His cheeks heat up as he nears the door and slips inside.

Dave is leaning against the wall, fiddling with his phone and looking far too attractive in the bathroom lighting. Karkat crosses his arms, bites his lip, and waits.

Are they really about to fuck in the bathroom of a fancy restaraunt? When did this become his life?

Well, when Dave waltzed into it, obviously. But still. What the fuck.

-

Karkat doesn’t respond to his text, but it does show that he’s seen it. Dave drums his fingers on the sink while he stares at his phone, waiting for the bubble to show up that will tell him Karkat’s typing a response. No such bubble appears. 

Dave lets out a little sigh, and goes to lean on the bathroom wall, looking through his pictures on his phone so if someone came into the bathroom he wouldn’t just be standing around like a weirdo in an empty bathroom as he waited to see if his boyfriend would come and—

The door opens, and Dave catches a glimpse of Karkat’s telltale mess of curls and his head pops up and he quickly shoves his phone into his back pocket. Karkat’s standing there watching him from afar, arms crossed and biting 

his 

fucking 

lip. 

Dave had just told him how much all the little things Karkat does drives him crazy. It’s why they were in this fucking bathroom in the first place. Karkat was just so goddamn adorable 24/7 that if Dave went too long without getting to kiss him he’d spontaneously combust. And now he’s here, red cheeks flaring up under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom, chewing on his lip anxiously as he watches Dave. 

Dave pushes himself off the wall and walks over to Karkat. He has to force himself not to cross the distance by doing a fucking vertical leap. When he gets to Karkat he grabs his shoulders and pushes his back up against the nearest wall, and leans in. 

No time for messing around or small talk. Someone could walk in at any time so Dave just had to cut right to the chase and do what he’s been wanting to do all evening. 

He keeps Karkat’s body pinned to the wall using his own, sliding his knee between Karkat’s legs. Dave moves his hands up Karkat’s neck and cups his face in both hands for a moment before moving one hand to the back of Karkat’s head to bury into his curls, turning his head slightly to deepen their kiss as the top of his thigh presses into Karkat’s crotch with just the slightest amount of pressure.

-

Dave approaches him with purpose, red eyes dark and hungry, and pins Karkat against the wall. The cold seeps in through his shirt but he’s thoroughly distracted. His eyes widen as Dave slips his fucking thigh between Karkat’s leg and uses his fingers to tug gently at his curls as Dave kisses him like it’s all he’s wanted all evening.

Karkat lets out a soft gasp as the pressure against his dick increases; it’s a miniscule amount and it’s nowhere near enough and yet he still feels winded. His arm wraps around Dave’s slim waist and the other runs through the silky blond strands of his hair. 

“Baby, what--” he says, pulling back, but Dave captures his mouth again and Karkat decides that talking can come later. Kissing time is now.

Kissing Dave is fucking exhilarating. He gets to lick into Dave’s mouth, taste the sweetness on his tongue. Karkat wonders if Dave tastes chocolate in his mouth. Dave kisses him like it’s what he was made for.

His dick is becoming interested almost embarrassingly fast and Karkat twitches his hips, grinding lightly against Dave’s thigh and moaning. His hand tightens on Dave’s waist like he’s afraid Dave will move away.

-

Karkat tries to speak but Dave doesn’t let him get more than two words out before he’s shutting him up with more kisses. Shhh, talk later. Kiss now.

Karkat takes like chocolate and red wine and it’s like a fucking aphrodisiac. Dave lets out a soft groan at the natural sweet taste of Karkat’s warm, full lips paired with the lingering taste of the chocolate cake and wine. Chocolate tastes so much better when Dave is tasting it from Karkat’s mouth.

Karkat’s hips lurch slightly, grinding against Dave’s thigh. Karkat moans between their kiss and Dave pushes him harder into the wall in response, and Karkat holds him even closer, hand squeezing around Dave’s waist as both of Dave’s hands grip into Karkat’s hair.

Dave presses his thigh against Karkat a little more insistently, feeling his own dick getting very intrigued by their steamy makeout and Karkat’s hard cock against Dave’s leg.

Karkat probably has his handy-dandy condom and lube packet in his wallet, but Dave doesn’t know if he wants to take it that far. At least, not here. He wanted to save pulling Karkat apart for when they got home. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give Karkat a bit of a preview.

Dave pulls away from their kiss, gasping for air, and continues his onslaught of kisses along Karkat’s jaw and neck.

“Wanna suck your cock,” Dave breathes into Karkat’s ear before nipping at his earlobe. “Can I, baby?”

Dave knows Karkat isn’t as into the idea of public sex as he is, so if Karkat only wants to do a little dry humping and kissing to burn off some steam, Dave won’t mind. But he also really, really wants to lock him and Karkat up in one of the stalls and get on his knees.

-

Karkat makes a bereft whimper as Dave moves his lips away from his mouth, trying to follow them, but Dave tugs his hair and moves down his neck, sending shivers of arousal through him. He grinds his dick down harder, gasping as Dave whispers in his ear.

Fuck. Fuck! Shit, okay. Karkat has never had fantasies about public sex and if he ever did it wouldn’t be in a fucking _bathroom_ , but Dave is asking so fucking sweetly and when has Karkat ever been able to deny him anything?

He nods sharply. 

“Fuck, yeah, yes,” he gasps, biting his lip. Dave’s been teasing him all fucking night, giving him eyes over the table and sucking on his fucking silverware and Karkat feels frayed around the edges.

-

Karkat gives the green light. All systems go, we are ready for lift-off, commander. And it’s a good fucking thing, too, because when Dave pulls away from Karkat’s neck he sees Karkat biting his goddamn lip again.

Dave makes a breathless, heady sound that he isn’t sure is a grunt, a growl or a groan, and he captures Karkat’s lips again, swiping his tongue across where Karkat was just biting.

He grabs the front of Karkat’s sweater as he backs them up towards the stalls, feeling around behind him one-handed to push the door to the first stall open and backing them inside, never letting his lips leave Karkat’s.

He pushes Karkat up against the door of the stall, effectively closing it in the same motion. Dave fumbles around blindly with the lock, twisting it shut.

“This is just a preview for what you’re in for tonight, baby,” Dave says as he finally breaks their kiss again, peppering his mouth along Karkat’s cheeks and chin as he speaks.

He runs his hands down Karkat’s chest and then palms Karkat through his pants and gives him a firm squeeze, which makes Karkat gasp and lurch against the door.

“Gonna ravish your perfect body all fucking night,” Dave promises earnestly, his voice soft and breathy as he runs his lips down Karkat’s neck.

As he presses warm, sloppy kisses to Karkat’s throat, Dave works on unbuttoning Karkat’s pants. Then he lowers himself down onto one knee, pulling down Karkat’s pants and boxers in one motion as he goes.

Karkat’s dick springs free, and Dave’s eyes are nearly black with how much his pupils swallow up his red irises.

No time for little reading touches and kitten licks, here. Some dude could walk in to use the can at any moment. Dave’s heart is fucking pounding just thinking about it.

He opens his mouth wide and leans forward, letting his eyes flutter closed as his lips close around the head of Karkat’s cock. Dave’s chest rumbles with a deep groan and he leans in eagerly to take in more, squeezing at Karkat’s thighs.

-

 _I can’t believe I agreed to this_ , Karkat thinks, but then Dave kisses him again and yeah, he _can_ believe he agreed to this. 

Dave drags him into a stall, fisting the fabric of his sweater and Karkat can only pray he doesn’t fucking stretch the fabric out or something because Kanaya will kill them both. Karkat chases after Dave’s mouth as his boyfriend walks backwards; if Karkat tried something like that it would end in disaster.

He’s pushed against the stall door and Dave runs his hands along Karkat’s chest, then squeezes his dick through his pants. Jesus fucking christ, Dave is going to kill him. The words _ravish your perfect body_ echo in his mind as his cock twitches. He covers his mouth to muffle a groan.

Dave tugs his pants and boxers down in one smooth movement, Karkat’s cock bobbing up in front of his face. Dave doesn’t waste any time teasing him now, though, and leans in to take the head in his mouth. Karkat switches to biting down on his knuckle.

His other hand finds Dave’s hair. He pets over the strands as Dave sinks lower onto his cock, and when he reaches the base Karkat grabs his hair firmly, giving a slight tug as if in askance. Dave likes it when he fucks his face, but apparently his boyfriend has some goddamn plans for tonight and Karkat wants to see exactly what those plans entail.

-

Dave lets out a low, pleased groan when Karkat grabs and pulls on his hair. If Karkat wants to fuck Dave's face then Dave is absolutely not going to complain.

Tonight is all about Karkat and what he wants, after all. Sure, it may be indulging Dave's own desires to be fucking in public, and fucking his face--but as long as Karkat was down for it, too, that's all that mattered to Dave.

So he takes one hand away from squeezing Karkat's thighs to grab the hand in his hair and give it a squeeze--a silent, reassuring _yes, please keep doing that._ For emphasis, Dave pulls out until just Karkat's head is on his tongue, and he blinks his eyes open and looks up at Karkat while he swirls his tongue around his sensitive cockhead, flicking the tip of his tongue along the slit.

His eyes are a further encouragement, silently begging Karkat to use him however he wants to get his release. Dave puts both hands back on Karkat's thighs and squeezes, bracing himself as he waits, still looking up at Karkat longingly.

-

Dave is looking up at Karkat with large, pleading eyes, like he’s begging without words for Karkat to fuck his mouth. Karkat’s heart is in his throat and holy shit he wants this seared into his memory forever, the way Dave is staring at him, the tip of Karkat’s dick between his pretty pink lips. 

Karkat’s grip tightens and he pushes Dave onto his cock, heat building in his belly already. He bites down on his hand to silence a moan; someone could walk past the door, someone could _come in_ and he really fucking doesn’t want that, so they better hurry this the fuck up.

He starts up a frantic rhythm, hips thrusting in time with the push-pull grip he has on Dave’s head, shoving his cock past the tight ring of muscles at the back of Dave’s throat over and over. His head rolls back and smacks against the door, his moans loud even with his hand muffling them.

Dave’s mouth is soft and wet and warm and _familiar_ , god they’ve done this so many times. Dave is so fucking good to him. He loves him so fucking much it feels like it might split his chest open. 

Karkat whimpers as Dave swallows around his dick and he looks down to see tears beading at the corners of Dave’s eyes. 

“F-uuck, Dave, _baby_ ,” he gasps out. “Love you, love you.”

His legs feel weak and his hand moves from his mouth to scrabble at the door.

-

Dave watches as Karkat’s throat bobs and he stares down at Dave with large, lust-dark eyes. Then he tightens his grip and Dave lets his mouth fall open as Karkat pushes him back down to the base of his cock. Dave moans in response as the head of Karkat’s cock pushes against the back of Dave’s throat.

Dave grips onto Karkat’s thighs as Karkat starts up a brutal rhythm, thrusting his hips as he pushes Dave back and forth, gripping into his hair. Dave’s moaning with every thrust but it’s very muffled considering his throat is full of dick, but Karkat’s moans echo through the stall despite the fact he’s trying to keep himself quiet. Fucking hot.

Karkat whimpers and gasps out Dave’s name, and Dave looks up as Karkat moves his hand completely away from his mouth, trying to find purchase on the door. Dave has been clutching onto Karkat’s thighs so he can feel how much they’re trembling, trying to stay upright with his cock buried down Dave’s throat.

Dave blinks his teary red eyes up at Karkat, and one of the tears slips free, tickling as it rolls down his cheek. He swallows, letting the head of Karkat’s dick pass through the back of his throat, which makes even more tears build in his eyes.

Karkat’s still got a firm grip on his hair and is pushing him down onto his dick, so Dave couldn’t pull off if he tried, if he wanted to. And he certainly doesn’t want to.

Dave wants to say _love you_ back, but his mouth is obviously occupied at the moment. He gives Karkat’s lovely, lovely thighs another firm squeeze, as though wordlessly trying to convey it. Then one hand lets go and goes underneath and cups at Karkat’s balls, giving them a gentle squeeze, rolling them between his fingers.

Karkat’s pace quickens, his lips buck more frantically, Dave lets his eyes slip shut. Tears are completely blurring his vision by this point, anyway. All that’s left to do is let Karkat keep fucking his mouth until he cums, and Dave will swallow down every last drop Karkat gives him.

-

It doesn’t take much longer for Karkat to cum. Part of him wants to drag it out, hold himself back and enjoy this for as long as he can. The more logical part of him reminds him that they’re in a public fucking bathroom.

So Karkat chases down his orgasm, thighs trembling as he cums down Dave’s throat, hand gripping tightly to Dave’s hair and his eyes squeezing shut. Dave swallows around him, drinks him down and Karkat’s cock throbs as his balls draw up. 

Dave keeps sucking at him even after he’s drained Karkat dry and he has to gently pull Dave off his softening cock, hands coming up to cup his face and wipe the tears away.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, urging Dave to stand so he can draw him into a messy kiss, a hand slipping around his waist as he leans some of his weight onto Dave. His legs are still shaking.

His other hand falls from Dave’s cheek and moves down to rub at Dave’s dick through his pants.

“You want some help with this, sweetheart?” he asks.

-

Karkat cums and Dave swallows it all down greedily, and he keeps on sucking until Karkat pulls Dave away, the grip on his hair now much more gentle. Dave releases Karkat's softening dick from his swollen lips, and takes in a few gulps of air. Karkat wipes away the tears that had gathered in his stinging eyes (he still hadn't managed to get that under control, but hopefully he didn't look like too much of a hot mess right now).

Karkat pulls Dave up to his feet and pulls him into a wet, sloppy kiss. Dave's lips are raw and wet, his throat feels numb, his jaw is sore but he moves his mouth the best he can as Karkat kisses him, one hand stroking Dave's cheek while the other holds Dave around the waist.

Dave's breath hitches as Karkat moves his hand away from his cheek and palms Dave through his trousers. He'd been so caught up in what he was doing he'd honestly forgotten he was hard, too.

Karkat offers to help Dave out, because of course he does. But Dave doesn't want to cum, not just yet. He wants to drag this out all night long. Even though he got to suck Karkat off he feels like parched earth that just got a little bit of rain. It soaked it all up eagerly but is still left dry and needy until the next storm. Dave wants to hold onto this tension, wants to keep wanting Karkat as desperately as he has all evening. He doesn't want any form of relief until Karkat is good and spent. Only then will Dave let himself get his own release.

"Just kiss me," Dave says, and his voice comes out in a rough croak. Fuuuck, Karkat fucked his throat so good.

Karkat looks like he wants to protest, but Dave takes his wrist gently and guides it around his waist to match his other hand. Dave's dick would get the memo eventually. They'd stay here for a little bit longer and makeout until he didn't have such an obvious strain in his pants, and then go back out so Dave could pay for the meal.

Then they could go back home and pick up right where they left off.

-

Karkat frowns, wanting to protest or at least ask why, but Dave moves his hand from his crotch to around his waist, and Karkat shuts his mouth. It doesn’t really matter why; Dave doesn’t want to, and that’s fine. It feels weird and wrong, somehow, like he’s not doing enough by getting Dave off too, but if Dave doesn’t want it he doesn’t want it.

He does want kisses, though, and Karkat can do that.

He presses his mouth to Dave’s swollen lips, gentle and careful, the opposite of what he’d been moments before. He kisses the tear tracks on Dave’s cheeks and the tip of his nose and runs a hand up and down his back. He brushes his lips along the line of Dave’s jaw before coming back to his mouth and pulling Dave’s bottom lip between his teeth.

The sound of the door opening has Karkat freezing, eyes going wide, even though the main event is apparently over. There’s a long, awkward minute where he and Dave stare at each other while they listen to a stranger use the urinal, wash his hands, and leave. 

“Oh my god,” Karkat says after he hears the door close. Then he bursts into humiliating nervous giggles, a hand coming up to muffle them. “What the fuck.”

-

Karkat pouts when Dave doesn’t say he wants Karkat to get him off, but doesn’t protest when Dave kisses him. His dick isn’t exactly going down because the act of kissing Karkat is never something that disinterests Dave’s dick, but without any further hands-on stimulation it should eventually get the message. Dave might just have to go back out to the table with a half-chub, though.

The bathroom door opens and someone’s shoes tap along the floor. Karkat freezes like a statue, holding his breath as he stares at Dave in mute horror.

The dude takes a piss, flushes, washes his hands, walks past their stall again and is back out the door. When the door finally closes Karkat bursts into anxious giggles Dave can’t help but join in.

“...Okay, listening to some dude rock a piss officially killed the boner,” Dave chuckles, “We should probably get outta here before they think we dine n’ dashed.”

Dave gives Karkat one more kiss before he opens up the stall and steps out. He gets a look at himself in the mirror and a laugh bursts out of him.

“Jesus fuck,” Dave says, attempting to fix his hair.

His hair is all kinds of fucked up from where Karkat was gripping it, his lips are red and swollen, his face flushed with that ‘just fucked’ glow. His voice is also still very fucking rough, and probably would be for a few more hours.

He could stand here preening for an hour and it would still be abundantly clear that he was sex-disheveled.

“Dang, baby,” Dave says, turning on the sink. He pushes up his sleeves and bends down to splash some cool water on his face. He stands back up and uses his damp hands as a makeshift gel, swiping it through his bangs to push his sex-mussed hair back. “I look a damn mess.”

-

Karkat smiles, coming up behind Dave and plastering himself along Dave’s back, tucking his chin over Dave’s shoulder. Orgasms make him cuddly, so fucking what?

“You look gorgeous,” he says, turning his head to give Dave a quick kiss before pulling back and grimacing at himself in the mirror.

He straightens his clothes and tries to make his hair look less like a rat’s nest, but it doesn’t work and he sighs in defeat, turning his attention back to Dave, who is much more fun to look at. Even with his adjustments he still looks recently fucked, except now his hair is slightly damp. His voice is also pretty rough; Karkat will have to make sure he drinks some tea or something later.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, slipping his fingers between Daves and tugging him to the door.

-

As Dave continues to fuss with himself in the mirror, Karkat comes up behind him and presses against his back and rests his chin on Dave’s shoulder. A warm, affectionate smile spreads across Dave’s face as he looks at Karkat’s reflection in the mirror.

Dave finds himself looking back and forth between their reflections, and taking in the sight of them standing together. They didn’t have any pictures of them together, Dave finds himself remembering yet again. Other than that goofy photobombed selfie from all those weeks ago. They didn’t have any of them taking a non-goofy picture together. And it wasn’t often they stood in front of a mirror like this, where Dave could see the two of them side-by-side, but now that he can...

They look...really good together.

Karkat calls him gorgeous and kisses him quick on the cheek, pulling Dave from his thoughts and making him huff out a little laugh. Karkat makes his own little adjustments in the mirror and Dave takes a moment to lean his hip against the seat and just take him in.

The fussing isn’t necessary whatsoever on Karkat’s part, he looked bangin’ no matter what and his shirt went a little askew during their...proceedings—but otherwise he was fine, his mess of curls looking dark and shiny and luscious as always, cheeks a healthy flush of red, eyes all shiny—Karkat had the cutest post-cum face.

Then Karkat is taking Dave’s hand and leading him to the door, pulling Dave from his thoughts once again.

“Almost,” Dave says, pulling them to a stop as they come to the door.

He wraps his arms around Karkat’s neck and leans in for another kiss. No teeth or tongue, just a soft press of the lips...

Then some dude swings the door open and Dave and Karkat spring apart. The guy just gives them an embarrassed chuckle and squeezes by them as Dave gives him a crooked smile and a jerky nod.

Dave bites his lip as he watches the guy head over to the first stall and shuts the door. The stall Dave was just sucking Karkat off in.

Dave has to clap a hand over his mouth as he ducks out the door, and he’s already convulsing with chortling giggles once he’s out in the hall.

“F-fuck...” Dave wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. Dammit, now his eyes were gonna be all wet again but for a different reason than sucking dick—though still somewhat related to it.

Karkat steps out of the bathroom behind him and Dave tries to get his mirth under control, but seeing the look on Karkat’s face just gets Dave going all over again.

“D-did you...s-see the look on—hi—ii—hehehhehhhehh—“ Dave has to hold onto his stomach as it starts to ache and grabs onto Karkat’s forearm as he keels over again with another bout of giggles.

-

“Dave! Stop laughing!” Karkat chides as he follows his boyfriend out of the bathroom. His adorable giggles are infectious, however, and Karkat finds himself laughing as well as Dave braces himself on Karkat’s arm. Karkat leads him to their booth and they get a few odd looks for laughing so loudly on the way but Karkat couldn’t give less of a shit.

Dave won’t let him see the final price, and Karkat kicks him lightly under the table for that. The waiter takes Dave’s card back and Karkat chews on his lip, thinking, before he gets up and joins Dave on the other side of the booth, scooting in and digging out his phone. Dave gives him a curious look as Karkat pulls up the camera app.

“You wanted pictures, right?” he asks, holding his phone out.

Karkat hates taking pictures of himself. He’s the opposite of photogenic, unlike Dave. But Karkat will smile for the fucking camera if that’s what Dave really wants. Besides, he needs more pictures of Dave anyway. If he has to be in them that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

He snaps the picture, putting a practiced closed-mouth smile on his face as he does.

-

Karkat gives him shit for laughing but it's pretty half-assed considering he quickly divulges into barely-repressed giggles himself. Eventually their giggle-fit resides just enough that they can head back to their table and only turn a few heads.

A server arrives moments after they sit down (whoops, they totally thought they bailed) and Dave quickly gives them his card and the server walks off.

Dave looks over to shoot Karkat a smile, but his eyebrows raise curiously as Karkat gets up from his seat and joins Dave on his side of the table, pulling out his phone and bringing up the camera.

Oh. Karkat was actually gonna take a picture? Dave thought this would be like pulling teeth, but Karkat is the one offering--so Dave doesn't give a damn that he's gone messy hair and a face that absolutely looks like it got fucked by a dick, he is seizing this opportunity while he has it.

Karkat gets the phone ready, stretching out his arm, so Dave scooches in, watching Karkat on the phone screen as his face pulls into a small smile. It's not his true, uninhibited smile--the one where he doesn't care that he's showing his teeth--but it's a smile nonetheless.

They really do look fucking good together.

Dave smiles for the camera, too, small but genuine. He doesn't want to throw on a big cheeky grin when Karkat is clearly holding back. Maybe he can drag another picture out of Karkat where he does his not-practiced-for-the-camera smile.

But they had all the time in the world for that. Dave would take his little victories.

The server comes back with a receipt and Dave's card, then Dave and Karkat slide out of the booth and head out of the restaurant. As they walk back out to the car, Dave slips his hand into Karkat's and gives it a squeeze.

"So? On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your experience?" Dave says, "I'd say my meal was pretty baller, dessert was top notch, and the bathrooms were spotless. That's always important. There's not a speck of dust on my knees."

-

“Fishing for compliments?” Karkat asks, amused, as he squeezes Dave’s hand in return. Karkat lets out a thoughtful hum, enjoying the cool night air on his face. “I don’t have anything to compare it to. I’ve never been the one taken out on a date before, but I think I’d give this a solid 9.”

He grins at Dave as they reach the car, ignoring Dave when he opens the passenger door for Karkat and instead pulling Dave against him. His hands rest on Dave’s hip as he leans in for a lingering kiss, closing his eyes and sighing against Dave’s lips.

“Thank you, baby,” he says sincerely, pulling away. “Are we heading home or do you have something else planned?”

Maybe when they go home Karkat can actually get Dave off. He’s had a fantastic time tonight. It was fun, being spoiled, even if he’s not particularly good at letting it happen.

-

Dave keeps his hands on Karkat's shoulders after he pulls away from the kiss, his eyes taking a moment to flutter open. When he regains his composure, he lifts an eyebrow and sticks his bottom lip out a little.

"I can't believe my bathroom BJ didn't net me a perfect score," he faux pouts, "I'll just have to step my game up. Date ain't over yet, after all."

Dave leans in and bumps his cheek against Karkat's as though scenting him like a damn cat. He nuzzles against him, sighing at his warmth and breathing in his familiar scent. He keeps his mouth close to Karkat's ear as he snakes his arms around his boyfriend's broad shoulders.

"Unless you had something else you wanted to do, I would very much like to get you home so I can fulfill that whole 'ravish your perfect body' thing I mentioned earlier." Dave says softly, "That sound like a plan to you, sweetheart?"

-

Dave rubs their cheeks together and it’s so fucking _cute_ that Karkat feels like he might burst from it. He nuzzles back, and if anyone saw them they’d probably think they look ridiculous, two grown men dressed up and rubbing their faces together.

Then Dave wraps his arms around Karkat’s shoulders and speaks in his throat-fucked voice, and says things like _your perfect body_ and _sweetheart_ , and it’s a miracle Karkat doesn’t swoon right there. His eyes widen and he nods.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “Sounds great.”

He is so not fucking smooth.

Dave drives them home and Karkat puts on music again. He rests his hand on Dave’s leg as he drives and it takes a lot of self control not to be distracting with it, but Karkat’s been in enough car accidents to last him a lifetime.

When they park, he squeezes Dave’s thigh then waits obediently for Dave to open the door for him _again_ , rolling his eyes as he does so. He still pulls Dave in for another kiss, because it’s been like twenty minutes and that’s a long time to go without kissing his boyfriend.

-

Karkat puts his hand on Dave’s knee as he drives, which is so un-fucking-fair. Dave has pulled this move on Karkat because he knows it wound Karkat up like a spring. Now Dave was on the receiving end of it and could see why Karkat’s shoulders practically went up to his ears as he drove when Dave did this. It was distracting as fuck and took all willpower to pay attention to the road and not the warm weight of his boyfriend’s big hand on his leg. Especially when he rubbed his thumb along his inner thigh. So fucking cruel.

They make it home in one piece and Karkat squeezes Dave’s leg, and Dave lets go of a breath he didn’t notice he’d been holding. He steps out of the car and Karkat dutifully waits while Dave rounds the car to let him out. He gets a patented Karkat Eye Roll for his trouble, but Karkat wouldn’t be putting up with the chivalry shit if he didn’t lap it up.

Karkat steps out of the car and instantly pulls Dave in for a kiss, which Dave melts into effortlessly. He doesn’t mind if Karkat manages to get a few one-ups on him, if he manages to get Dave to let Karkat sweep him away for a moment or two.

Everything would change once he got Karkat inside.

They trade a few more kisses out by the car, and then Dave presses the car keys into Karkat’s hands as he pulls away.

“Thanks for letting me drive,” Dave murmurs.

God, his throat is still so fucked. He’ll probably sound like he lost his fucking voice by tomorrow, especially if he does any more dick-sucking tonight. Which he very much hopes to be the case.

They head up to the apartment and Dave makes sure he opens the door and then stands aside to let Karkat through, gesturing widely with his arm. It earns him yet another eye roll, and a half-hearted scoff. Dave grins as he follows Karkat inside and closes the door behind them.

He actually manages to have a shred of patience. They both get off their shoes and Karkat throws down his keys before Dave grabs his wrist and pulls him over.

He twists them around, backing Karkat up into the door and then pinning him to it with his body. Dave presses his forearms against the door on either side of Karkat’s head, trapping him in place as he moves their mouths together and runs his teeth and tongue along Karkat’s bottom lip.

“Wanna fuck you senseless, baby,” Dave rasps out, breath already heavy with want he barely locked down on the car ride home. “Mark up every inch of you, of your fucking gorgeous, sexy body...people won’t even need to see your words to know you’re all fucking _mine_.”

Dave grinds his hips in time with the word _mine_ , shoving Karkat’s head against the door with his mouth.

“Gonna make you cum over and over and over until you’re _begging_ me to stop,” Dave groans, “Wanna worship you until you can’t take another minute of it.”

Dave kisses and bites his way along Karkat’s jaw, over to his ear.

“Sound good, beautiful?”

-

Karkat gasps helplessly at Dave’s sudden onslaught. Oh fuck, why the fuck is his boyfriend so fucking _hot_? His hands grip Dave’s hips as they grind against his crotch and Dave’s rough voice reverberates in his ear. Blood rushes to his dick so fast he feels dizzy. 

Dave being possessive is sending tingling shivers down his spine and _yes_ , Karkat wants that, more than anything, wants Dave’s marks all over him. And Dave keeps saying things like _gorgeous_ and _sexy_ and _beautiful_ , and he feels that pleasant embarrassment in his gut--mixed with shame because he’s not those things and he doesn’t know how he’s tricked Dave into thinking he is.

He’s already thoroughly overwhelmed and Dave hasn’t even started yet.

“Y-yeah, yes,” Karkat stumbles out. “Fuck yes, please baby.”

He doesn’t know exactly what ‘worshipping’ entails but he is definitely fucking here for it, yes please and thank you. Anything Dave wants to do Karkat is completely on board. But Dave knows that already, so Karkat shuts his mouth before any other words fall out of it. 

His hips twitch forward and he kisses down Dave’s neck, over the hickeys he left there previously. They’ll need to be darkened up again soon, he notes.

-

Karkat starts to kiss down Dave’s neck and as good as that feels, Dave wants this to be all about Karkat’s pleasure. He steps away and grabs Karkat’s wrists, grinning as he leads Karkat down the hallway to the bedroom.

Dave shuts the door behind them and then goes right back to Karkat, kissing him firmly on the lips as he grabs the hem of his sweater and pulls it up. Karkat’s arms come up automatically and Dave whisks the sweater off and tosses it to the side. Then he undoes Karkat’s pants while he kisses down Karkat’s bare chest and shucks them down Karkat’s thick legs and to the floor.

As he comes back up, he kisses over one of Karkat’s legs, up and over his knee, his thigh. Then Dave grabs the hem of Karkat’s boxers with his teeth, yanking them down Karkat’s legs until he gets to Karkat’s knees and then pulling them down the rest of the way normally with his hands because that’s just fucking faster and he needs Karkat naked yesterday.

Once Karkat has stepped out of his boxers and pants Dave presses his hands into Karkat’s chest and pushes him gently towards the bed until the backs of Karkat’s legs hit the side. Then Dave gives him a firmer shove and knocks Karkat onto his back.

The sight of Karkat sprawled out on the sheets, completely naked and eyes wide with arousal and anticipation is so fucking delicious Dave licks his lips as he starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Now, as I said before,” Dave says as he slowly undoes his buttons, keeping his eyes on Karkat, “tonight’s all about you. So I don’t want you worrying your cute little head for one minute about me and _my_ needs. You’ve done that plenty.”

Dave undoes the last button, pulls his shirt off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. He steps towards the bed, leaning down and pressing his hands into Karkat’s knees.

“And I don’t wanna hear any fuss outta you, kitten. I promise, I get just as much pleasure outta making you feel good as I do from you touching me.” Dave says, smile soft but hungry.

Dave leans back up, and starts unbuckling his belt.

“But, you are a little bit of a sneak. I know I can’t trust you to just be a good boy and let me do this for you, without a little _help_.”

Dave pulls his belt loose from his trousers and then grips it in both hands, holding it out in front of him.

“What do you think, big guy?” Dave croons, leaning down, batting his eyelashes as he holds out the belt. “You okay with me tying those eager mitts of yours up so I can have my fun?”

-

Dave pulls away, effectively stopping Karkat from kissing all over his neck, and Karkat pouts. It quickly disappears, however, as Dave leads him by the wrist to their bedroom. He immediately starts stripping Karkat, pulling at his shirt while kissing him fiercely. The shirt is quickly removed, followed by his pants, and then Dave _pulls his boxers down with his teeth_ and Karkat almost cums right there.

He’s wide eyed as Dave stands back up, smirking, and pushes Karkat back until he falls onto the bed. Dave stares at him with dark eyes as he starts to slowly unbutton his shirt and Karkat has to actively try to listen to his words as Dave reveals more and more of his beautiful skin.

Dave doesn’t want him worrying about Dave’s needs. _You’ve done that plenty_ , he says, and Karkat opens his mouth to argue but the words get lost on the way out, because Dave takes off his shirt and tosses it aside and Karkat gets to rove his eyes over Dave’s naked chest and stomach.

Dave calls him _kitten_ again, and that makes Karkat feel stupidly shy while his dick is pointing at the ceiling in plain view. And then Dave is saying things like _I can’t trust you to be a good boy_ while taking off his belt all sexily and blinking his gorgeous eyes at Karkat like he isn’t making Karkat have an out of body experience.

Dave wants to tie him up. With his belt. Okay, that’s okay. They discussed this. Karkat didn’t know it would be happening so _soon_ , though. He bites his lip, reaching out past the belt to gently cup Dave’s face, swallowing harshly.

“I don’t know how well I’ll handle not being able to touch you, baby,” he admits. “But I’ll try.”

He doesn’t know why he feels nervous, suddenly. He’s never had someone pay attention to him like this before, maybe. No one’s ever wanted to. Karkat doesn’t know how to lay back and just take it, and he’s not sure how to handle not being able to distract Dave with kisses or touches if he’s uncomfortable.

But he trusts Dave. Trusts him to take him apart and put him back together, and he wants this, no matter how much he feels like a nervous, blushing virgin all of a sudden.

-

Karkat says he’ll try, and that’s all Dave needs to hear. He smiles brightly down at Karkat, turning his head to kiss Karkat’s wrist before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.

“If it starts to feel bad, just let me know, baby,” Dave says softly, keeping his nose buried in Karkat’s hair. “Want you feeling good, after all. So if the belt starts to feel uncomfortable, be sure to tell me.”

He kisses down over Karkat’s browline, his eyelids, down his nose.

“If you want things, ask for them,” Dave murmurs, “you want me to kiss you a certain way, in a certain place. Touch you here or there, whatever you want. It’s all about you. So whatever you want me to give you, I’ll give you.” Dave quirks an eyebrow and smirks a little, “Except touch me. Not until you’re absolutely _begging_ for it, that is.”

He brings his lips close to Karkat’s, but he doesn’t kiss him. When he speaks their lips brush together just slightly.

“And even then I still might decide you haven’t had enough.”

He kisses Karkat properly, but it’s quick—too quick, and then he’s pulling away again and holding up the belt, grinning.

“Alright, let’s get this on you, yeah?” Dave says.

Hmm, what would be most comfortable? Probably tied above his head. Dave looks over his bed, and the slots of his wooden bed frame. That would have to do.

“Lie back this way, kitten, and cross your wrists above your head,” Dave instructs, gesturing to the head board.

As he watches Karkat do as he’s told, Dave realizes his heart is racing a mile a minute. He’s never gotten to do this with anyone before, take charge and be bossy, tie them up and be dominating like this. It’s so fucking thrilling, and the fact that it’s _Karkat_ he gets to explore this with makes it even better.

Dave comes up to the side of the bed and loops the belt through the slots of the head board and around Karkat's wrists, pulling it snug. He gives Karkat’s hand a squeeze.

“How’s that, baby? Not too tight?”

-

Dave kisses softly all over his face and that quells some of Karkat’s nerves. Enough that when Dave instructs him to move he does so without hesitation, moving up the bed to lay on his back and lifting his arms. He crosses his wrists and Dave uses the belt to tie him to the headboard.

Karkat tugs, testing. It’s tight enough to keep him in place but not enough to cut off his circulation. If he needed to, Karkat could probably wrench his hands out with enough force. Something in him relaxes at the thought and he feels guilty about being relieved.

Dave wants him to ask for things, but Karkat doesn’t know what he wants, besides Dave’s hands on him immediately.

“It’s good,” he says, looking up at Dave. He gives him a small smile. “Are you going to start ‘ravishing’ me now?”

If his hands were free he’d make finger quotes around the word. He hopes his tone makes that clear.

-

Dave grins like a shark—all teeth and eyes flashing hungrily. “You betcha.”

Okay. Alright. Cool. Dave takes a step back and just...assesses the situation he finds himself in.

He’s got a drop-dead gorgeous and very naked boy in his bed—tied up in his bed. A boy he promised he would ravish well into the night. And Dave is nothing if not a man of his word.

Dave considers grabbing a tie or something to blindfold Karkat, too, so he can really focus on the sensations. But he also thinks that Karkat wouldn’t appreciate not being able to see Dave—which makes a little bloom of pride swell in Dave’s chest at the thought, that Karkat would pitch a fit if he couldn’t look at Dave during. Besides, he’s already asking quite a bit of his boyfriend to be tied up right now. Maybe they could do a blindfold another time.

God. Dave never knew he would be into all this kind of shit. Sex just used to be something quick and hard, a brief flash of pleasure. But Karkat makes him want to explore. He wants to take his sweet time pulling pleasure out of Karkat’s body until he’s absolutely blissed out and spent, riding high on cloud 9 for hours afterwards.

Dave steps over to the foot of the bed, and undoes his trousers, sliding them slowly down his legs while keeping his eyes on Karkat. He leaves his boxers on, though. Can’t give Karkat everything right off the bat, after all.

He kicks his pants off to the side and then climbs onto the bed, spreading Karkat’s legs apart to kneel in-between them. Dave runs his hands up and down Karkat’s thighs, kneading his fingers into the firm muscles there, smirking as he watches Karkat squirm underneath his touch, his arms pulling slightly at the belt around his wrists.

Dave gives Karkat’s thighs a firm squeeze, then he shuffles down so he’s laying on his stomach between Karkat’s legs, turning to kiss at Karkat’s inner thigh.

“Think I’ll start down here,” Dave murmurs. He bites at the soft, warm skin and grins when Karkat twitches.

“Love your thighs, baby,” Dave sighs, peppering little kisses all over. “Could crush a fuckin’ watermelon with these. Think they’ll look even better all marked up.”

-

Dave steps back and just… looks at him, for a moment. His eyes rove up and down Karkat’s body and he has a sudden urge to suck in his gut, but he feels like that might draw more attention to it, so he lays there, unable to do anything as Dave stares. The longer it goes on the more Karkat feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin.

Then Dave finally moves closer, taking off his pants, and Karkat lets out a long breath. Dave keeps his boxers on, which doesn’t seem fair considering Karkat is completely naked, but before he can say so Dave is touching his thighs, running fingers lightly over the skin there and then digging in, rubbing circles into the muscle. Karkat bites his lip, tugging at his wrists lightly.

Dave lays down between his thighs, but instead of sucking his dick he presses kisses to the inside of his leg. Karkat jerks when he feels teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there.

Fuck, Karkat hates his thighs. They’re fucking huge and always look like they’re about to burst the seams of his pants unless he chooses a pair that are baggy as shit. It’s nice, though, that Dave likes them.

He gasps when he feels another bite, and his eyes close when Dave sucks the skin into his mouth. His cock pulses and his hips twitch slightly, but as much as he’d like Dave’s hand on his cock he’s in no rush. He lets himself enjoy the feeling of Dave’s mouth on him, marking up his thighs, leaving bites and bruises that have his skin throbbing when Dave moves onto the next area.

“ _Baby_ ,” he breathes, hands pulling at the belt as he automatically tries to reach for Dave, to bury his fingers in his hair. “Feels good..”

-

Dave leaves a couple of decently-sized hickeys on Karkat’s inner thighs, moving back and forth from one leg to the other.

Once he’s satisfied with his work, Dave moves up a little further. Karkat is hard, his dick twitching and leaking precum, but Dave doesn’t even let his breath feather across it.

“Next up,” Dave says, as he brings his hands up and digs his thumbs into the dip in Karkat’s hipbones.

Dave runs his tongue along the crevice in Karkat’s hips.

“When you first started looking after me, and you had a shower, and stepped out into the hallway wearing just your towel that day,” Dave kisses up Karkat’s other hip, “This was all I could think about doing. Licking all the drops of water off your skin as they ran down your hips...”

-

When Dave turns his attention to his hips, Karkat bites his lip to keep from whimpering. What a weird place to be attracted to. What a weird place to be so _sensitive_. Dave licks and kisses the jut of his hip and it almost tickles until Dave bites down, and then it just feels perfect.

Dave is still avoiding his dick. A drop of precum beads at the tip as Dave alternates between his hips, using his hand to rub whichever one his mouth isn’t currently occupying.

“Almost had a heart attack when I saw you shirtless,” Karkat says, laughing slightly as he remembers. “I felt like such a creep, ogling you when I was just supposed to look after you.”

-

Dave smiles at Karkat's confession, looking up at Karkat through his lashes as he lets out an amused little laugh.

"That so? Well, trust me, Karks--I was doing nothing but ogling from the moment we met."

It was nice to know that Karkat had been looking, too. Dave had forgotten he had been shirtless, too, in that moment. He'd been a bit apprehensive about it at the time, but he'd needed Karkat's help to put a shirt on with the cast so it's not like he'd had much of a choice in the matter.

When he'd seen Karkat step out of the shower, all of that just melted away and didn't matter anymore. Dave's head was fucking empty for everything else except shirtless, fresh-out-the-shower, sexy Karkat.

"I watched a drop of water roll down riiight here," Dave says, then lathes his tongue down from just beside Karkat's belly button.

He goes down, down, down...until he's right by the head of Karkat's cock. Then he darts his tongue back into his mouth, still not touching.

It's so very, very mean. And quite honestly the last thing Dave wants to do. He very much wants to have Karkat's dick in his mouth again. But he's got a job to do here.

"Couldn't stop gawking at these sexy lines in your hips," Dave drags his finger along one of the said lines for emphasis.

Dave kisses back up from just above Karkat's cockhead and back up to his belly button. He bites at the soft flesh just beside it, sucking it into his mouth and leaving behind a dark red mark.

"Got the most perfect, gorgeous skin," Dave sighs as he presses more kisses to Karkat's stomach, "love how prettily it bruises up for me."

He continues his upward ascension, kissing and licking and biting up Karkat's broad chest, biting just beside his nipple before sucking it into his mouth and biting again as he rolls the other between his fingers.

"You okay there, sweetheart? You haven't asked me for anything yet..."

-

Dave drags his tongue down Karkat’s stomach, stopping before it touches his dick, and Karkat feels arousal and unease pulse through him. He doesn’t like his stomach and the swell of fat there. He doesn’t like how squishy he is, and having Dave kissing over a part of himself he hates while lavishing praise on him makes his chest feel tight.

He’s so painfully aroused but he squirms and twitches under Dave’s touches like he isn’t sure if he wants to get away or not. He tugs at the belt, feeling the urge to cover himself up protectively or pull Dave away and distract him with kisses, but of course he can’t. He can only let Dave suck a hickey onto his stomach and bite his lip so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t taste blood.

Dave moves up, leaving his stomach alone for now, and relief and disappointment wash over him in equal measure. He’s not fond of his chest, either, but he can handle Dave’s attention there easier. And the feeling of having his nipples played with is tantalizing, tingling zaps of pleasure running from his chest to his cock with every pinch and bite.

And oh, right, fuck, Karkat is supposed to ask for things. He feels weirdly shy, and most of the things he can think of to ask for he’s not sure if he _wants_ , if he can handle--like Dave touching his stomach again. So he peers at Dave and asks for the one thing he always wants, regardless of the situation.

“Kiss me?”

-

Dave smiles warmly at Karkat’s question, the way he asks it with an uncertainty in his voice as though Dave would ever deny him anything, especially a request like that.

But he decides to be a little bit cheeky. He was _ravishing_ Karkat after all, and part of that deal was in the subtle torture of it all. He would give Karkat everything he wanted, of course. But all in good time.

“Where should I kiss you?” Dave coos, running his fingertips up and down Karkat’s chest.

Dave presses a kiss to Karkat’s neck, then his collarbone. “Around here?” he murmurs.

Another kiss beside his nipple. Then he shuffles down a bit, and presses more kisses over his rib cage. “Or maybe here?”

He moves further down, pressing a kiss into the middle of Karkat’s stomach. “What about here?”

Dave runs his hands up and down Karkat’s hips, fingers kneading into the muscles as he presses little kisses down Karkat’s happy trail. He stops a breath away from Karkat’s dick once again, looking up at Karkat and batting his lashes.

“You gotta be a little more _specific_ , darlin’.”

-

Dave kisses him everywhere but his lips, pressing his mouth to parts he _knows_ are sensitive, making Karkat jolt, wrists straining against the belt. His stomach flutters when Dave kisses near his navel, but then he’s moving down and breathing against his dick, which is starting to ache from the neglect.

“Oh my fucking-- _Dave_ ,” he whines. His hips twitch up but Dave pulls away before his dick makes contact and Karkat groans in frustration. Dave grins at him.

“I meant my _mouth_ , you smug jackass,” Karkat says. His hips roll, thrusting up into nothing, and he grits his teeth. “Fuck, Dave, _please_ touch my dick, holy shit.”

-

Karkat’s getting antsy and frustrated already, and Dave has barely even started. Dave grins, holding himself above Karkat, his hands pressed into the mattress with his arms on either side of Karkat’s chest.

“Well, you weren’t exactly nice about it, but you did say please,” Dave says, “so I suppose I can do that.”

Dave leans down and softly presses his lips to Karkat’s. Just a gentle press, nothing rough or possessive, no biting or tongue. Dave moves his head to the side a little to deepen the kiss, but whenever Karkat surges forward, tries to make it go even deeper, Dave pulls away, just beyond where Karkat can reach with his wrists shackled. He waits until Karkat settles back down, smiling as his boyfriend glares daggers at him.

“Good boy,” Dave murmurs, leaning in for another kiss.

Once Karkat is able to stay still while Dave kisses him, Dave finally runs his hands down Karkat’s chest then ghosts his fingertips over the underside of Karkat’s cock, all but throbbing with need by this point.

Karkat gasps and lurches even though Dave barely touched him, and the thought of it makes Dave want to fucking purr. Instead he sneers hungrily between their kiss and presses in more insistently, finally flicking his tongue along Karkat’s bottom lip as he slowly squeezes the dripping head of Karkat’s cock.

“All right, speed round,” Dave says, pulling away a little from Karkat’s lips. With his free hand he strokes Karkat’s cheekbone with his thumb—the same moment he swipes his thumb across Karkat’s slit, wiping up the precum.

“I was going to save your cock for last, but since you said please I’m’a have to skip a few pages here in my Things I Love About Karkat Vantas essay. Guess you’re gettin’ the Sparknotes edition.”

Dave continues to gently squeeze the head of Karkat’s cock, which makes more beads of precum ooze from the tip. Meanwhile his other hand continues to stroke Karkat’s cheek, then card his fingers through his curls.

Dave presses kisses along Karkat’s jawline. “There’s a lot to cover in this area, though, so even the Sparknotes version is gonna go on for a bit,” Dave mutters between kisses, “Love this jawline of yours, baby. Like a fuckin’ moviestar’s.”

He kisses all the way along until he gets to Karkat’s earlobe and then goes back the other way, until he kisses Karkat on the lips again.

“And of course, these kissable-as-fuck lips. You always taste so good, lips are so plump and such a nice colour...plenty there to kiss.” He bites Karkat’s bottom lip, “Among other things.” Dave adds on.

He keeps massaging Karkat’s cock head as he continues, slow and kneading. Dave kisses at the corner of Karkat’s mouth.

“Love your mouth even more when you’re smiling, but it’s cute as fuck when your pouting, too,” Dave goes on, “And don’t even get me fuckin’ started on when you get all nervous and all up inside your head about shit and start biting on your lip. That shit riles me up so goddamn bad...”

He gives Karkat’s dick a little bit firmer of a squeeze at this. Then he gives Karkat a kiss on the tip of his nose, over his cheek, up to just under his eye.

“Love your eyes,” Dave murmurs, “First thing I noticed about you, was your big, dark, gorgeous fucking eyes. Then you go and make them even prettier with that makeup and stuff and it just drives me wild. You should wear it for me more often.”

Another firm squeeze.

“It’d be fun to see how sweat-proof it is, don’t you think?”

Karkat’s breathing has gotten pretty damn laborious at this point. Dave leans back to assess the situation, smiling wide at his boyfriend’s deeply flushed face and blown-wide pupils.

“Bein’ a real good boy, Karkat,” Dave croons, “Is there something else you wanna ask for?”

-

Karkat feels frustration pulse through him as Dave teases him. He kisses him but it’s not _enough_ and when Karkat tries to get more Dave pulls away until Karkat stops trying. He curses as Dave does this again and again, until Karkat gives up, gritting his teeth and glaring, no choice but to lay back and let Dave kiss him lightly.

This gets him a softly muttered _good boy_ , which affects Karkat probably more than it should. Almost as much as the feeling of Dave’s fingers _finally_ touching his cock. Karkat feels like a live wire, like every small touch Dave gives him is amplified. He feels Dave’s tongue swipe against his lip at the same time and moans.

But Dave doesn’t stroke his cock, instead massaging the head and doing nothing more than that. It’s sensitive as fuck and it’s _good_ but he wants more, wants the sensation everywhere else too, and rolls his hips up to try to urge Dave’s hand down. It doesn’t work, only earning him a smirk.

Dave tells him all the things he loves about him, one hand carding through Karkat’s hair while the other thumbs across the head of his cock, and Karkat can’t do anything but listen and whimper and whine, hypnotized by Dave’s low voice, jerking his wrists against the belt holding him. 

Karkat wants to argue, wants to say that everything Dave is telling him is--it’s just--it’s not _true_. It’s not, but pleasure flicks and flares inside him at Dave’s words, his breathing getting heavier and his face hot. He bites his lips to keep down his embarrassing as fuck sounds, except Dave says that gets him riled up and then Karkat doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know what’s _wrong_ with him, why he already feels so close to cumming even though all Dave has done is say shit he likes about him. He feels pressure build behind his eyes for reasons he doesn’t understand when Dave tells him he’s being a _good boy_ and what the actual fuck?

“Dave,” Karkat pants. Dave wants him to ask for something, but Karkat is floundering. Everything feels like so much and not enough, and Karkat wants to ask for _more_ but he doesn’t know if he can handle it. He feels hot and embarrassed and _weird_ , and he wishes he could hide his face as he asks, “I--I’m _good_?”

-

Dave’s heart fucking _melts_. He looks down at Karkat with a deep look of fondness as a wave of affection slams over him like a strong wave. He tucks some curls behind Karkat’s ear and leans down to give Karkat a soft kiss.

“Yeah, baby, of course,” Dave says gently, “because you’re letting me take my time to touch you and kiss you nice and slow. And you’re not trying to argue when I talk about all the things I love about you.”

Dave runs his hand down from his hair and cups Karkat’s cheek again.

“Even if you don’t believe me, you’re still letting me say it. And even if your mind doesn’t want to let it in, your body knows what it wants.” Dave runs his hand down from Karkat’s cheek, down his neck, his chest...

“Your heart does, too,” Dave goes on, “And I think they’re both crying out for it. You _like_ this...you just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

His fingertips run down Karkat’s ribs, and Dave smiles as he feels Karkat shiver heavily under the caress.

“But that’s okay, baby,” Dave murmurs, “I’ll just keep on loving every little part of you—from the way you scrunch your nose up when you’re really deep in thought, or the sleepy but pleased look on your face when you get your first cup of coffee in the morning...I’ll love all of it enough for both of us. And I’ll keep reminding you just how much I do, until you can believe it on your own.”

-

Dave’s face turns kind and soft after Karkat speaks, and he gives Karkat a gentle kiss. Karkat’s eyes shut, but he doesn’t try to deepen it; he doesn’t want Dave to pull away again, he wants to keep being _good_.

Karkat’s eyes go watery as Dave speaks but he blinks back the tears. Dave is being sweet and _sexy_ , now is not the time for crying. But then Dave promises to love all the parts of Karkat that he hates, enough for both of them, and a tear slips out and Karkat can’t even wipe it away. He squeezes his eyes shut again and breathes until he has himself under control.

He _does_ like this. He feels raw and vulnerable and exposed and it’s a lot, but it’s… it’s good, since it’s Dave who’s here with him. Dave who’s touching him and lavishing him with praise, who won’t turn around and take it back the second Karkat does something wrong.

Dave’s expression is still soft when Karkat opens his eyes again and it’s more than Karkat can take. He yanks against the belt, wanting to pull Dave in for a kiss, to run his hand through his hair and drag his fingertips across his skin, but to no avail. He gives up and sighs.

“Kiss me for real? Please?” he asks. His voice is needy and he hates it but… maybe it’s one of those things Dave will love, for reasons Karkat might be able to understand, one day. If Dave keeps being patient with him.

-

Karkat’s big brown eyes shimmer as they start to swim with tears, and Karkat squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe deeply to get it under control but one tear still leaks through and slips down into the curls by his ear.

When Karkat looks up at Dave again Dave sees him pull against the restraints, and an icicle of fear drops into his stomach. Was he getting too overwhelmed by being tied up? Karkat slumps after a moment, sighs, and then his gaze flickers up to Dave and Dave’s body goes slack at the absolutely _needy_ expression on Karkat’s face.

So when Karkat asks Dave to kiss him _for real_ , Dave doesn’t hesitate.

“ _Baby_ ,” he breathes, quickly leaning down as he cups both sides of Karkat’s face and kisses him, firm and deep and full of love.

He wipes up Karkat’s tears with his thumbs as they kiss, and Dave lets Karkat press in against their mouths and pant and bite and moan all he wants. Dave is too caught up in the moment, too far gone to even attempt to deny Karkat anything at this point. Besides, Karkat asked for a real kiss. So Dave would give him one.

“I love you so much, Kat,” Dave says earnestly between kisses, “So, so much...”

Dave kisses Karkat like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to. Like the moment their lips part Karkat will disappear like the impossible illusion that he’s felt like since the moment Dave locked eyes with him. So Dave doesn’t let their lips come apart, moving his head from side to side to change the angle and deepen the kiss, coming apart for the briefest instant for a single gulp of air before diving back in.

Finally, Dave breaks their kiss, only to kiss all over Karkat’s face. The tip of his nose, his cheeks, his forehead. At last coming away to look down at Karkat, the smile on his face small but deeply affectionate.

“Any more requests, babe?” Dave asks, his voice breathy from their kiss.

-

Dave finally kisses him properly, like he means it, like Karkat’s been wanting since Dave slipped the belt around his wrists, and Karkat melts into it. He’s making all kinds of needy, embarrassing sounds and he doesn’t try to muffle them, too lost in the press of Dave’s lips against his, the sweet slide of his tongue, the way Dave’s breath fans across his face for the moment they part before they come together again like magnets. 

It’s perfect, it’s sweet and breathtaking and his tongue is heavy with the words _I love you too, so much_ but he hopes Dave can taste them there.

When Dave pulls away, Karkat is breathless, panting, coming back to himself as Dave peppers kisses all over his flushed face. When Dave asks if Karkat wants anything else, his cock throbs, a reminder that he’s still hard, still aching with need, and Karkat sucks a swollen lip between his teeth, worrying it further.

“Wanna cum,” he says, then, remembering it got him the kiss, he adds, “please, baby.”

-

Ohhh, fuck. Dave shouldn’t have told him about the lip biting thing. Now Karkat was totally going to weaponize it against him and that just wasn’t fucking fair. Especially so when Karkat pairs it with begging Dave to cum.

Dave leans back down for another kiss, taking the moment to compose himself so that Karkat doesn’t continue to melt him into a useless puddle of goo with nothing but his big fucking doe eyes and a few magic words.

… _Fuck_. Dave was supposed to be the one doing the ravishing here, and yet Dave is falling apart and Karkat hasn’t even touched him.

Dave pulls away, and then starts to kiss down Karkat’s neck, his chest, his stomach.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Dave croons, inches away from Karkat’s dick now. “I’ll make you feel real good, Big Kat, promise.”

Dave wraps his hand around the base of Karkat’s dick and gives it a gentle squeeze, and just that small action makes Karkat’s back curl. Dave smiles. Oh, this wasn’t going to take much, was it? Dave feels like he could fucking breathe on Karkat’s dick right now and he’d still burst.

Dave settles between Karkat’s legs in the same position he began all of this in, squeezing over Karkat’s purpling hickeys on his inner thigh with one hand while he grips the base of Karkat’s cock with the other.

Then he leans down and wraps his lips around the head, swiping up another bead of precum and humming appreciatively. He opens his mouth wider and slowly starts to sink down to the base. Dave’s throat is still aching a bit from the Bathroom BJ, but that isn’t about to deter Dave.

He sinks right down to the base, until Karkat’s dick hits the back of his throat. Then he lifts up about halfway, and starts a slow, deep rhythm.

-

Dave kisses him again and though Karkat loves it, his stomach sinks, thinking Dave is going to deny him again, tease him more, even though he was supposed to ask and he _did_. He wants to whine and complain, but when Dave pulls back he only does so to start kissing down, and down, and down.

A press of lips against his sternum, above his navel, over the pudge of his stomach. When he finally feels Dave wrap his hand around his cock, Karkat arches up involuntarily, a hitched moan in his throat. He feels the ache of the hickeys Dave left as he digs his fingers in and the reminder of those marks makes heat spread through him.

Dave wraps his mouth around the head of Karkat’s cock and pleasure sparks through him. He’s so, so fucking close, and as Dave slowly swallows him down Karkat knows he won’t last long. He thrusts up mindlessly into the wet warmth of Dave’s mouth, feet trying to find purchase against the sheets, but Dave presses his hips down, making Karkat take only what Dave gives him.

He cums with a wordless cry, the velvet feel of Dave’s mouth around him too much, white bursting behind his closed eyes, unable to thrust up or grab Dave’s hair or do anything beyond clench his fists and _feel_.

Dave swallows and sucks and Karkat feels that hazy bliss sink into him, but as his cock softens Dave doesn’t stop, using the flat of his tongue to lap at him, peering up at Karkat through his bangs. Karkat whimpers, trying to squirm away, feeling fire licking up his spine, but Dave keeps him pinned, keeps going, until the pleasure borders on pain and Karkat has to gasp out, “Stop, stop, baby, too much.”

-

Dave can feel Karkat’s thighs clench up before he hears Karkat’s soft gasp, his breath hitching as he tells Dave that it’s too much.

Dave pulls off right away, giving Karkat’s hip a comforting squeeze with one hand while he wipes his mouth with the back of his other hand. He pushes himself up to kiss Karkat on the chin, the corner of his mouth, then fully on the lips.

“Sorry, baby,” Dave says softly, a little huff of a laugh in his voice, “your dick makes me get carried away.”

Dave’s hands roam over Karkat’s chest, trying to give Karkat a different, softer sensation after the intensity of his orgasm. “You want the belt off now, baby?” Dave asks, fingertips trailing down Karkat’s waist. “What do you need? Just say the word and I’ll do it. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

-

Karkat goes lax, untensing all at once. He’s breathing heavily, his skin tingling all over. Dave’s hands stroke softly over his chest and Karkat shudders at the sensation, but he doesn’t want it to stop.

When Dave asks if he wants the belt off he nods, tugging at the restraints. Dave quickly moves to let him go and Karkat rubs at his wrists before reaching out, wrapping his arms around Dave and pulling him against his chest.

It’s a lot, with his nerves still alight the way they are, but Karkat keeps dragging his hands across Dave’s skin, his scarred back, coming up to cup his cheeks as Karkat kisses him, too far gone to be coordinated so it’s messy but it’s perfect.

“Can I suck you off, baby?” Karkat asks when they part. His hand drifts to the waistband of Dave’s boxers. “Don’t you wanna cum?”

Karkat’s had two orgasms to Dave’s none, and it’s starting to feel really unbalanced. Dave said this was supposed to be about _Karkat_ , but Karkat _likes_ getting Dave off.

-

Dave asks Karkat for what he needs and Karkat asks to suck Dave off, and Dave just about dies on the spot because that is just too fucking much. 

A laugh comes out of him, bubbling until it comes out in a short burst. Dave shakes his head in disbelief, bumping his forehead off Karkat’s shoulder. 

Dave had been hard this entire time, obviously, but his own desire was usurped by the much more potent desire to make Karkat feel good. In fact, it only made Dave even more aroused, seeing the reactions he was getting from Karkat. His cock is still straining in his boxers, aching for some relief after getting riled up twice now. 

Dave takes Karkat’s wrist and kisses the inside of it gently. The skin around both his wrists is tinged red from Karkat pulling at the belt. From how badly he’d wanted to touch Dave but couldn’t. 

“Sure thing, babe.” Dave says, gently running his thumb along the reddened skin on Karkat’s wrist. 

He gives Karkat’s wrist another kiss and then he pulls away to lay out on his back beside Karkat so he can get to work. Dave’s dick pulses in his boxers, as if it knows what’s about to happen, and is crying out for Karkat’s touch.

-

Dave _laughs_ at him, the asshole. Karkat is about to take great fucking offense to that but then Dave grabs his hands, turning them so he can press his mouth against the inside of Karkat’s wrists, and his breath catches in his throat. His wrists are sore from all the straining he did, a pulsing throb encircling them both, but it all but disappears at the touch of Dave’s lips.

The moment is broken by Dave laying on his back and Karkat’s heart pounds excitedly as he moves to place himself between Dave’s legs. He leans down and mouths at the tent in Dave’s boxers, wetting the fabric with his tongue as he licks up Dave’s clothed dick, taking a deep breath through his nose, enjoying the heady scent. 

His hands rest on Dave’s thighs, lightly stroking as he kisses up and down Dave’s length. But he’s had enough teasing from Dave, he doesn’t want to tease himself, so he reaches up and tugs Dave’s boxers down to his knees, his dick bobbing in the air. Karkat wraps a hand around the base and gives the head of Dave’s cock little kitten licks, tongue lapping up the precum smeared there. Dave kept calling him _kitten_ , after all.

When he feels fingers in his hair he opens his mouth, allowing himself to be pushed down, taking Dave to the back of his throat. This he can do. This he’s _good_ at. It’s comfortable, familiar, but he still only wants what Dave will give him, so when he reaches the base of Dave’s cock he stays there, swallowing around it, until Dave gets the hint and his fingers tighten in Karkat’s hair, pulling him up.

-

Karkat mouths Dave’s dick through his boxers which pulls a breathy little sigh out of Dave as he squirms a little underneath his boyfriend. He has a brief moment of fear where he thinks Karkat is going to take his turn teasing Dave now, as Karkat continues to kiss him through his boxers.

But then Karkat reaches up and pulls Dave’s boxers down to his knees and Dave’s needy cock springs out, flushed pink and pulsing with need and leaking like a goddamn faucet over being denied it’s release for this long. Having it out in the open air just makes Dave squirm again, bringing his hand up to bite at his knuckle—it’s not even to quiet himself, it’s just his oral fixation taking over.

Dave jolts at the first little lick to his oversensitive cockhead, and Dave watches with a lust-dark gaze as Karkat’s tongue darts out to lick up all the precum. Dave bites down on his knuckle, his back curling. Is Karkat going to control the pace, like Dave did with him, or would he let Dave move?

Dave reaches out and buries his fingers into Karkat’s hair, and Karkat opens his mouth wider. Alright. Okay. Dave gives a gentle push, and Karkat sinks down, and Dave is stuck between watching Karkat’s eyelashes flutter and his mouth stretching around Dave’s dick. Karkat gets to the base and doesn’t move, just swallowing around Dave’s cock filling up his mouth.

Dave tightens his grip in Karkat’s hair and pulls him up, and Karkat goes easily. Ohh fuck. Ohhh jesus. His boyfriend really was too fucking amazing.

“ _Baby…_ ” Dave whines, letting go of his knuckle. He brings his other hand down into Karkat’s hair as well, gripping both into Karkat’s curls.

 _This_ is new. Karkat’s let Dave fuck his face a few times before, but Dave had always only had his one hand to guide Karkat’s movements with. Now he could grip into his lovely curls with both hands and shove Karkat down onto his dick and hold him there. Dave lets out a long, heady groan, his hips bucking upward just from the thought of it.

Fuck, he was not going to last. After denying himself earlier, and how hot tying up Karkat was, how sexy Karkat looks now with his mouth wrapped around Dave’s dick and still letting Dave control the pace even though he’s not tied up anymore...it’s too damn much.

Dave pushes Karkat’s head back down with both hands, gasping and arching his back as the heat of Karkat’s mouth envelops his dick perfectly. The head of his cock hits the back of Karkat’s throat and Karkat swallows around it.

“Ohhh fuck,” Dave moans, fingers gripping and pulling at Karkat’s hair as his hips spasm. “Oh—christ—fu-fuckkk, baby—I’m—“

Dave cums _hard_ , spilling down Karkat’s throat, his cock pulsing over and over and over until Dave can’t even make a sound, and he collapses back against the mattress, gasping for breath.

-

Dave’s cock is heavy and perfect in his mouth, against his tongue, pushing into his throat. Both of his hands are tangled in Karkat’s hair, his hips thrusting up even as he tugs Karkat halfway up, then pushes him back down. His scalp tingles and his eyes flutter shut. He’s content to let Dave use his mouth for as long as he wants, as long as he needs.

Which isn’t long, apparently, because he’s arching up off the bed and pushing Karkat down, holding him down as he cums. Karkat dutifully swallows it all, and when Dave falls back against the mattress he lets his dick slip out of his mouth. 

Dave is beautiful, spread out and panting, and Karkat presses light kisses to his softening oversensitive cock, earning himself an adorable gasp and twitch with each one, until Dave’s hand is back in his hair and pulling him up. Karkat pouts, even as Dave kisses him. 

His boyfriend was probably still wound up from the restaurant, on top of teasing Karkat. It makes sense he wouldn’t last long, but Karkat was still hoping to get more time with Dave’s cock in his mouth.

-

“Don’t give me that look,” Dave says between peppering little kisses to Karkat’s lips and cheeks, “I’ll bounce back in a bit, just be patient.”

Thank goodness for his quick refractory. And with how quickly he just came, hopefully that meant he’d recover a little faster. He certainly didn’t want to be done, after all.

Dave squirms a little as he and Karkat continue to kiss, trying to move his legs around to move his boxers down the rest of the way, but it doesn’t really work. He’s too stubborn to stop kissing Karkat to deal with it, though, so he just gives up and wraps his arms around Karkat’s neck and keeps kissing him.

Karkat pulls away and Dave almost whines, but then Karkat is grabbing his boxers and yanking them off Dave’s legs with a flourish. He gives Dave a look as he tosses the boxers off the side of the bed, and Dave grins.

“Thanks, handsome,” Dave says. Then he holds out his arms like a little kid and makes grabby hand motions. “Now get back here and keep kissing me.”

-

Dave is an adorable, determined idiot who won’t stop kissing Karkat to take his boxers the rest of the way off, which means Karkat has to do it for him. He tugs them down and off Dave’s legs, waving them in his boyfriend’s face for a moment like _see how easy that was_ before throwing them onto the floor.

“So needy,” Karkat teases, when Dave tells him to kiss him again.

He rolls onto his back, grabbing Dave and pulling him with so he ends up halfway on top of Karkat, their legs tangled, miles of skin pressed together. Karkat grins, running a warm hand up and down Dave’s back as he kisses him.

Dave is so good to him, indulging him like this. Karkat feels like he could get drunk off of Dave’s kisses, like he could press his lips to Dave’s again and again and never get bored. Dave’s lips are soft like velvet and he meets Karkat wonderfully, a constant exchange of who leads and who follows. 

-

Karkat calls him needy, and well, he’s not wrong. Plus Dave’s mouth is a little occupied with kissing so it’s not like he’s about to argue.

Dave makes a little sound of surprise as Karkat rolls onto his back and tugs Dave to lay half on top of him. They’re basically like a human pretzel at this point, all entangled limbs and warm, naked skin. Just slather some butter and some cinnamon sugar on that shit and—

Okayokayokay, he’s getting distracted. Dave focuses on kissing Karkat, smiling between the kisses as their mouths move in perfect tandem against each other.

Dave can’t believe he gets to do this whenever he wants. That he gets to lay here and kiss this gorgeous boy, and that this person is his fucking soulmate. Karkat is solid and warm and real around him and yet Dave still can’t seem to believe it could be true.

This could be the rest of his life. He could spend every day, just like this. With Karkat by his side, in his arms...

He knows Karkat would stay, that Dave wouldn’t even have to ask him to. They could go through the rest of their lives in this bliss, and Dave wouldn’t have even needed the words on his arm to make that happen. He wouldn’t have been able to go on with Karkat in his world, even if it meant Karkat had a soulmate with an incomplete bond. Selfishly, Dave would have stayed.

But he doesn’t have to worry about any of that now. Karkat has his words, and Dave has his. The curse—if there had even been one to begin with—was lifted.

He didn’t have to live in fear, expecting pain and wrath around every corner. He didn’t have to float through life all alone, destined to never find his perfect match all because of his family name.

Karkat was here, and Karkat was his family now. Dave’s heart gives a little lurch at the thought, and thinks back to the words Karkat’s father said...

_You’re practically family already._

Dave was Karkat’s soulmate. Karkat was Dave’s soulmate. They were destined to meet, fated to be together.

What other reason did Dave need?

There was nothing else to think about. Who cared about how little time had passed. If Karkat’s parents were anything to show for it, time was uncertain. Nobody knew how much of it they had left, until it was stripped away from them.

So there was no time like the present.

Dave pulls away from Karkat’s lips, staring down at him.

“Do you wanna marry me?”

-

Karkat is feeling a tired sort of bliss. His wrists hurt a bit but overall he feels soft and warm, and Dave is kissing him, his weight keeping Karkat tethered to the bed when he feels like he might float away otherwise. Dave’s skin is so fucking soft against his own it’s hypnotic, and he lazily drags his fingers in circles along Dave’s shoulderblades.

They shift beneath his hand as Dave pulls back, and Karkat blinks his eyes open, lip already sticking out in a pout until Dave speaks.

_Do you wanna marry me?_

Karkat freezes, eyes going wide, adrenaline shooting through him suddenly, shoving away any drowsiness previously residing in him.

He stares up at Dave, trying to process. The last time they’d talked about marriage it had been a joke; one Karkat took too seriously. But Dave doesn’t look like he’s joking now. He looks very serious, his jewel-bright eyes boring into him.

“I--” he tries. He swallows. He wants to ask _do you mean that_? but he knows Dave isn’t cruel, wouldn’t jerk him around like this. Dave loves him, and he loves Dave. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Dave, however long that may be.

“Of fucking course I do, you idiot,” Karkat says.

-

Karkat says yes—well, he says yes in the most Karkatesque way possible, but he still says yes. For a moment Dave is too stunned to speak, but when he does finally open his mouth to speak a torrent of words spills out.

“Awesome. I know I kind of had a fuckin’ Freudian slip earlier bringing it up outta the blue when I said that shit about not wanting to marry my brother—maybe Freudian slip isn’t the correct colloquialism to coin here but I’m using it considering the context was about marrying a sibling. Anyway, I know it just seemed like I must have had my foot crammed so far into my mouth I could lick the back of my knee but it was honestly something I had been considering in a completely unironic, not-a-fucking-joke type of way, and then it kind of just tumbled ass-first outta my mouth before I could stop it. And I thought back then that there was no way I could use that as the worst segue of all time into a legit marriage proposal so I played it off so I could come up with something much more profound down the road. But now cut to a few days later and I have once again shoved my foot directly into my gullet so damn hard it’s a wonder I have any teeth left. I mean I’m stoked as hell that you said yes but I fully intend to actually propose to you the way you deserve, with all the romance and pomp and circumstance of all your fucking romcoms combined. I mean I’m gonna have to just on principle because I don’t even have a fucking ring yet. But as soon as I do just you wait, I’m hitting you with that Proposal 3.0, x3 triple-whammy third-time-is-the-charm combo, it’s gonna blow your fuckin’ hair back, babe, I promise. You won’t be able to watch another romcom because all those fake movie proposals are gonna look like dog shit after you’ve gotten a taste of the real fuckin’ deal. So you just keep that yes in your back pocket and I’ll cook up something you can whip out that yes for like a black credit card to pay for my five-star ten-course meal of a proposal.”

-

Karkat watches, open-mouthed, as Dave talks and does not stop. Not for a single breath or even a beat. One word after the other, a waterfall of a ramble tumbling into Karkat’s ears as he tries to keep up.

When Dave is finished he takes a long, deep breath, and looks at Karkat expectantly. He tries to untangle the sounds he just heard.

“Dave, you were talking so fucking fast I only caught like one third of that,” he says. He leans up, pecking the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth. “But from what I can gather you plan to propose to me properly, eventually?”

He waits until Dave nods, then his face splits into a smile. He wraps an arm around Dave’s neck, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“I love you,” he says against Dave’s mouth. “I love you so fucking much. Of course I want to marry you.”

Even if this was the proposal--Dave taking him out to a nice restaurant and bringing Karkat home to pour praise into him and wring out an amazing orgasm--Karkat would say yes. In fact, he doesn’t know how Dave plans to _top_ this. The only thing that would make this better is an actual ring, but Karkat doesn’t give a shit.

He’s so hopelessly, helplessly in love with this man.

-

Karkat’s smile lights up his whole face and the sight of it makes all of Dave’s bones turn into a gooey paste. He goes effortlessly as Karkat wraps an arm around him and tugs him in for a kiss.

Karkat says _I love you_ so fervently against Dave’s Iips that Dave has to duck his head, burying his face into the curve of Karkat’s neck as his cheeks burn up and his eyes sting.

Dave slips his arms around Karkat’s waist as he feels his chest get tight and his throat close up. Karkat tells Dave he loves him all the time but somehow it’s just hitting different.

Karkat loves him.

Karkat wants to marry him.

They were soulmates and someday they were going to get married. Dave would give Karkat a ring and Karkat would say yes and then they’d spend the rest of their lives together.

How the hell did Dave ever get so lucky?

“I...I love you, too.” Dave whispers as a tear slips free.

-

Karkat chuckles as Dave clings to him, nuzzling his cheek against Dave’s hair and pressing kisses there, a bubble of joy growing larger and larger in his chest. He’s so fucking lucky, having Dave in his life. Getting to _share_ a life with him. 

He hears Dave murmur _I love you too_ and he’s so fucking happy he could burst. Dave tells him all the time, but it fills him with butterflies and brightens his day no matter how often he hears it. But then he feels something wet against his skin, and Dave sniffles slightly, and Karkat’s smile turns from one of beaming joy to something softer as he slowly rubs his arms up and down Dave’s back.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says gently.

-

Dave lets out a wet little laugh.

“Sorry,” he says. He rubs his cheeks against Karkat’s shoulder to wipe away his tears because he knows he won’t mind. “It’s just...yeah.”

Dave pulls away to wipe at his eyes a bit, offering Karkat a little smile.

“Hah...snotty nose ain’t much of a turn-on, huh?” he says lightly, “What do you wanna do now?”

-

Dave’s wobbly smile makes Karkat’s heart clench and he leans forward to plant a kiss on the middle of Dave’s forehead, rubbing circles into his back.

What does Karkat want to do now? He wants to curl around Dave and kiss the tears from his cheeks until he runs out, wants to list all the ways that Dave makes his life better. He wants to fuck Dave into the mattress, wants Dave to take him apart, wants Dave thrusting into his mouth until Karkat passes out on his cock. 

Karkat wants so much that he can’t pick between them. He hums thoughtfully as he drops kisses over Dave’s handsome face.

“I can’t fucking decide,” he finally admits, laughing. “There’s too many goddamn choices.”

-

Karkat certainly had a point. The possibilities are endless, stretching out so long beyond them Dave can’t even fathom it.

His life before Karkat had very little choices. Dave never got to think for himself or decide on anything—everything revolved around Bro. He never thought that far into the future. Dave just focused on surviving day by day and saving up enough money to get out.

When he got out, he was still just surviving. Less stressed out, or at least stressed for different reasons. The kind of shit normal people got stressed about, so in a way it was oddly calming for Dave. Life became mundane after eighteen years of unorthodox and fucked up bullshit.

And then there was Karkat. The days stopped blurring together—every day felt exciting and new and full of possibilities. Dave got to wake up to Karkat, spend the day with him, come home to him or vice versa, and his heartbeat was the last thing Dave felt, his breath the last thing Dave heard. And it would always be like that, every single day, for the rest of their lives. But it would never get boring. It would never just be mundane.

With Karkat, nothing ever would be again.

Dave tries to think of something, but his mind comes up blank. Karkat’s laugh is still ringing through his ears like a bell, and his face is still lit up with that incredible smile that gets less rare with every day.

Dave reaches up and cups Karkat’s face, running a thumb over one of his laughter lines.

“You’re beautiful.”

-

Karkat’s laughter quiets, his expression turning soft at Dave’s words. He turns his head to kiss Dave’s palm and only feels a slight urge to correct him. Maybe one day he won’t feel the need at all.

“You make my life a million times better, Dave,” Karkat says sincerely. “I love you so much.”

It’s hard to imagine that just months ago Karkat was convinced he’d never find love. Dave came into his life like a shining star, illuminating his dark, dreary existence and breathing hope into it. That sounds so fucking dramatic; Karkat had good things, before Dave. He had his friends and his father, but life feels so much _better_ now that Dave is in it.

They still haven’t decided what they’re going to do. Maybe they’ll have sex again (and again, and again…), or watch a movie and cuddle. Maybe Dave will get a craving for cookies and Karkat will brave the dangerous world of baking. They can play it by ear; they don’t need to figure everything out now.

They have the rest of their lives ahead of them, after all.


	17. BONUS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay y'all, this is officially the end! thanks for reading!

It’s not often Dave hears a knock at his apartment door. Usually it’s the landlord dropping by to run some maintenance or let Dave and John know if the elevator is getting repairs done or some shit.

Despite this, when Dave hears the knock at his apartment door, he knows it isn’t the landlord. The landlord never knocks so softly.

Dave gets up from the couch where he was doodling on his tablet, and heads over to the door. When he swings open the door, he’s surprised to see a very tall woman adorned with immaculate clothes and with two large bags slung over her slender, pale arm.

“Oh, damn. Yo, Kanaya. What’s up?” Dave says.

Kanaya smiles softly. “Hello, Dave. May I come in for a moment?”

“Fuck, right, of course—“ Dave quickly steps aside and lets Kanaya through, “Here, let me help with those—why is it that every time you come over you’re massively encumbered by shit, huh, Kan?”

Dave takes the large black bags from Kanaya and drapes them over the back of the couch.

“What is all this anyway? Also, not like I don’t always enjoy our visits, but what’s with the surprise drop-in? Didn’t even shoot me a text first. That’s unlike you.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude, but I was very excited to show you these so I came over as soon as I had them finished,” Kanaya explains, “You remember how I took your measurements a while ago. And I had that certain...commission, from Karkat?”

At this, Dave feels his cheeks burn up. It’d been weeks since Kanaya had come over with all her tapes and pins and done her measurements on Dave. He’d practically forgotten all about the commission. He slowly looks back at the couch, and the large black hanger bags, and swallows thickly.

“So, this is the, uh...you know.”

“I’m dying to see you try it on, but I understand that this piece is not for anyone’s eyes except your soulmate’s.” Kanaya says with a kind smile, “But I would love to at least hear how the fit is, once you...”

She pauses.

“...Have had a chance to try it on,” Kanaya finishes.

Dave feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle of shame, but he manages to nod.

“Sure thing, sis.”

Now it’s Kanaya’s turn to blush, and that helps alleviate Dave’s own embarrassment a little. Ever since he and Karkat had found out that Kanaya and Rose were soulmates, Dave hadn’t let Kanaya (or Rose) live it down. When Dave had asked Rose why in the _hell_ it had taken so long for her to tell him the big news, Rose simply said _some of us like to keep our personal matters private, David._

Dave blocked her on Pesterchum for an entire 24 hours in retort. Though he felt a tiny bit bad about it.

“Anyway, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to drop these off.” Kanaya says, “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Wow, it’s just a blushing contest up in here, huh? Dave clears his throat a little, not sure if Kanaya realizes the entendre behind her words.

...who was he kidding, her soulmate was goddamn Rose Lalonde. Of course there was a hidden innuendo.

“Thanks for coming all this way, and for all your hard work,” Dave says, scratching the back of his neck.

Kanaya shakes her head a little. “It was my pleasure.” She steps over to the door and twists the handle, looking back over at Dave with a smile that looks copy and pasted out of Rose’s look book. “Do let me know what Karkat thinks of the fit, as well.”

Dave presses his lips together, and says nothing. He doesn’t trust his voice, so he just nods stiffly again.

Rose was such a bad influence on her.

Kanaya steps out the door, and just like that Dave is on his own again. The two black bags on the couch seem to be eyeing him down. Dave looks over at the clock. Karkat would be home soon.

“Well,” Dave says with a sigh, “no time like the present.”

He scribbles a quick note and leaves it on the one black bag, after he does a quick peek unzipping the bags to check which is which. Then he takes the other bag and goes off to his room to change, heart racing.

-

Miracle of miracles, Karkat is finally having a good day at work. His manager is on vacation, his co-workers somehow kept their heads out of their asses for a full eight hours, and there was only one bitchy customer all fucking day. His feet hurt the way they always do after a shift but he got a full night’s sleep thanks to his wonderful, amazing boyfriend so he can take some aching arches. 

Even better than all that, however, is the fact that Karkat gets to go home to Dave and _just_ Dave, because John is visiting his father once again. Karkat can’t wait to get back and kiss his boyfriend senseless on the living room couch without Egbert making gagging noises in the background.

Some otherworldly force must really be on his side today because there’s barely any traffic as Karkat drives home, humming along to a playlist Dave made for him. He takes the elevator up and unlocks the door, wondering what Dave is craving for dinner, and calls out, “Hey babe, I’m back!”

There’s no answer, which is weird. Dave makes it a point to put down whatever the fuck he’s caught up in when Karkat comes home to greet him with a kiss, or if he’s busy he’ll at least shout. Karkat does his best to do the same for him when he can.

Maybe he isn’t home? Dave usually texts to let Karkat know if he’s going out though.

Karkat frowns as he shuts the door behind him, slipping off his shoes.

“Dave?” he calls again.

Still nothing. He walks further into the apartment and his eyes land on a large black bag laid out on the couch. A Kanaya Bag. Karkat’s heart starts beating doubletime as he steps closer, plucking the note from the top of the bag.

_get changed and knock on the bedroom door when you’re ready._

Oh fuck, okay. This is happening.

Karkat didn’t exactly _forget_ about the commission he ordered from Kanaya (and insisted on paying her in full for, despite her reluctance), but it was shunted to the back of his mind. He kind of expected a head’s up from her, or something, but he should have known better. Her soulmate was a bad influence.

( _Rose and I didn’t want to steal your thunder_ , Kanaya said lightly, when Karkat demanded why she hadn’t told him, then listened to him bitch for a full hour before planting a kiss in his hair and sweeping gracefully from the room.)

He unzips the bag. Inside is a dark grey suit, a black button up shirt, and a red tie with a subtle shimmery pattern, because Kanaya can’t fucking help herself, he guesses. The suit looks about two sizes too small but he knows better than to doubt Kanaya’s handiwork.

Karkat strips quickly and gets dressed in the suit, his clumsy fingers fucking up the tie twice before he manages a decent knot, trying to avoid thinking about Dave in his--in their bedroom in a dress made just for him. It doesn’t work.

They don’t have a full length mirror or anything out here and honestly Karkat isn’t too interested in what he looks like. The shirt and jacket feel tight and he’s pretty sure he’s going to bust the seam on these pants. The fabric feels nice, at least. Besides, _Dave_ is who he’s interested in seeing.

The anticipation builds with every step he takes down the hall. He’s not wearing shoes, just his socks, because he doesn’t have dress shoes here and he probably looks like a fool but he raises his hand and knocks twice. 

-

Dave only saw a tiny glimpse of the red fabric when he was checking the bags, but he already knows it’s exactly the shade of red he pictured when he told Kanaya what he wanted. Unzipping the bag and slowly revealing more and more of the shiny red fabric only confirms it even further. By the time Dave has the entire thing unwrapped, he realizes he’s been holding his breath and lets it out in a long blow that ruffles his bangs.

The dress is...fucking beautiful. It’s shimmery, the perfect shade of candy red, and looks like it goes on for miles even though the skirt looks like it would end around his fingertips.

Dave pulls the dress out of the bag, and brings the dress over to his mirror to hold it against his body. He flips up his shades, and is floored by how Kanaya managed to find a fabric the exact colour of his eyes.

There’s a low neckline, a flowy skirt, and a lot of back. Dave already feels nervous and exposed, and he’s still in his own clothes and just holding the thing up to his body. He takes a deep breath and walks back over to the bed. Dave gingerly sets the dress down like he’s handling fine china. He grabs the black bag and picks it up to toss it aside so the bed is cleared off, but two things catch his attention.

One, the bag has still got some decent weight to it, like something substantial was still in there. And secondly, he sees a flash of candy red. Curious, Dave digs his hand into the bag and pulls out...

“ _Oh_ ,” Dave murmurs.

It’s a pair of _heels_.

They’re a simple, small heel and the same red as the dress. Kanaya really went all out. Dave sets the shoes aside and checks the bag once more, just to be sure. He does in fact feel one more thing inside, and pulls it out.

Oh, Christ.

...A pair of delicate, lacy red panties.

Dave gulps. His face matches the dress, the heels, and the panties now. If anything he’s quickly going even darker.

“Okay. Okay...” Dave whispers to himself. Karkat would be home soon. Better get changed.

Dave makes quick work of it. He strips down to nothing, and then puts on the panties first. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut. Next the dress. There’s no zipper or anything so he just kind of puts it on like a really long shirt. He shivers as the fabric brushes along his thighs.

Lastly the heels, which he has to sit on the bed to push his feet into. They’re the perfect fit.

He stands up, wobbles, but doesn’t fall. Taking a deep breath, he takes a step. It feels fucking alien and weird, but he manages to walk over to the mirror.

He gasps a little when he sees himself. Dave isn’t sure how long he stands there staring at his reflection, turning around to view the dress from every angle. But it must be awhile because soon enough he’s nearly leaping out of his skin when he hears a knock at the bedroom door.

He didn’t even hear Karkat come in.

Dave takes another deep, deep breath. He’s fucking shaking and can’t seem to make it stop. Should he open the door, or just tell Karkat to come in?

Dave steps a little unsteadily over to the middle of the room, and stands awkwardly in place. Is he slouching? He tries to stand up a little straighter, fix his hair.

He should have asked Kanaya to do his makeup! He completely forgot.

Well, no turning back now, he supposed.

“Come in,” Dave calls out.

-

Karkat takes a deep breath and turns the handle, pushing the door slowly open. 

Dave stands in the middle of the room, his face red and radiating anxiety. His shades sit atop his head, giving Karkat full view of his nervous eyes. Karkat’s mouth falls open, eyes roving over Dave from top to bottom.

He looks… pretty. Dave always looks good, but the dress accentuates his slim waist, his long limbs. It makes him look delicate, like he could shatter apart at the slightest misstep. For a moment Karkat is breathless, dumbstruck. It’s only Dave’s expression morphing into something like regret, his hands going from trembling to full on shaking, that snaps Karkat out of it.

“You’re beautiful, Dave,” he says softly, stepping into the room, moving close enough to Dave to take his hands and lift them one after the other to his lips, peering up at his gorgeous boyfriend. Dave is taller than him but Karkat has to look up further than usual and he quirks a lip, realizing it’s because of the heels. “The shoes are a surprise.”

-

Karkat opens the door and steps inside and Dave was already breathless but somehow what little air that was left in his lungs gets sucked away when he sees Karkat.

He’s wearing a gray suit, and a red tie, and...ha, and socked feet. It’s honestly kind of perfect, that even done up in a suit Karkat would have at least one form of comfort. It puts Dave at ease to see it. Then his anxiety creeps back up when Karkat just stares at him and doesn’t say anything.

Oh, god. He looks ridiculous, doesn’t he? Dave suddenly becomes aware of the fact his fucking shades are still perched on top of his head and feels like crawling under the bed and hiding for eighty years.

He looks stupid. Karkat was going to start laughing any second now, this was a stupid idea—

Then Karkat calls him _beautiful_ in the softest voice and steps closer to Dave, grabbing his hands and kissing at his knuckles. Dave presses his lips together and holds back a shiver.

A nervous, high laugh bubbles out of him at Karkat’s comment, and he looks down at the heels. “They were for me, too. I can barely walk in the things,” he says.

He doesn’t mention the other surprise Kanaya had left for him. Dave would let Karkat discover that one on his own.

“So...you like it?”

-

Dave _giggles_ , high and anxious and adorable, and asks Karkat _if he likes it_. He can’t resist leaning up to kiss Dave, soft and sweet.

“I love it, baby,” he says sincerely. “You look amazing. Can you do a spin for me?”

He gives Dave a crooked grin as he steps back, still holding Dave’s hand, and raises his arm. Dave carefully twirls under it, and Karkat is gifted the sight of Dave’s naked back, the fabric dipping down low. Even with such a slow circle the skirt fans out slightly, and when Dave comes to a stop he looks _bashful_ , which isn’t an expression Karkat gets to see on him often.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he says. “But what do you think, babe? Do _you_ like it?”

-

Karkat kisses him so fuckin tenderly that Dave worries his knees will give out and he’ll topple over. Obviously Karkat would immediately catch him, but still.

He thought he’d be less...demure about this. That he’d get right into the whole housewife thing and just treat it like a silly act. Maybe sprawl out on the bed and be all like _oh welcome home darling~~_ , but instead he’s so damn nervous he feels like he’s going to tremble the dress right off.

Karkat asks for a spin and then holds up his arm, and it’s only the big grin on Karkat’s face that gives Dave the courage to do so. Dave manages a small smile and carefully, slowly does a little spin. Normally he likes putting on a show for Karkat, but this is just _so much_ that Dave feels like he’s going to burst.

He comes to a stop and ducks his chin, not able to meet Karkat’s eyes and feeling lame about it. Karkat calls him gorgeous and Dave ducks his chin even more. Then he asks Dave if _he_ likes it, and Dave bites his lip a little, and brushes his hands down the skirt as though removing imaginary dirt.

“It’s...it’s pretty.” Dave says quietly, “uhh, it’s...y’know...it’s a lot.”

Dave finally manages to look up at Karkat, dragging his eyes upwards slowly from Karkat’s socked feet, up his strong legs that the pants cling to in all the right places. His ass probably looks amazing in them.

The jacket is also a perfect fit, of course, and makes his shoulders look even more broad if that were even fucking possible. The red tie is the exact shade of the dress.

They’re a match set.

Dave smiles brightly at Karkat. “You look really handsome.” he says, “I knew you in a suit would be all my wettest dreams come to life. Well, a decent chunk of them, at least.”

There we go, humour was good. Humour was comfortable. Not that the dress wasn’t comfortable, because it was. Even the heels, though they took some getting used to, were comfy, and they were _heels_.

It was just...humour was more _familiar_.

-

Karkat looks down at himself and is reminded that oh, yeah, he’s in an uncomfortably small suit right now. He had forgotten for a few moments, thanks to Dave looking so amazing, but now he’s reminded and feels insecure all over again.

“Thanks,” he says, smile dimming. He runs his hands down Dave’s sides, the fabric under his fingers soft and light, and brings them to rest at Dave’s hips. “You’re definitely showing me up, though, babe. You’re so fucking _pretty_.”

Dave is obviously nervous and possibly overwhelmed. Karkat rubs calming circles into Dave’s hips with his thumbs, leaning up to kiss lightly over his jaw.

“You wanna just wear your dress for awhile, baby?” he asks. “Get used to it? We don’t have to do anything right now.”

Karkat would be slightly disappointed, because his mind is going crazy with all the different things he’d like to do to Dave in this dress, but that can wait. What matters is that Dave is okay.

-

Karkat, as usual, is a goddamn sweetheart and Dave doesn't deserve him. Obviously he can sense Dave's trepidation, and he wouldn't have to be Dave's soulmate to do it considering Dave's nerves are coming off of him in thick, anxious waves.

Regardless of this Dave shakes his head at Karkat's suggestion. He might not be able to put on a show like he originally thought, his nerves are too fucking shot for that. But it's not like this dress and Karkat's suit were only going to get one use out of them, so they would surely explore other ways to play with the idea down the road. Maybe when Dave is feeling more at ease with everything he'll feel more confident with that whole 'tie Karkat up and let him watch' situation they cooked up before.

Dave slips his arms around Karkat's shoulders, feeling little pleased shivers trickle up and down his back as Karkat's warm hands rub at his hips, making him feel safe and secure. Karkat is still pressing little kisses at his jaw, so Dave turns his head to catch his lips in a proper kiss.

"I think I'd like you to show me just how much you like my dress," Dave says softly as he pulls away from Karkat's mouth, leaving just a breath of space between them.

-

“Oh?” Karkat asks with a smile, leaning in to press their lips together again. Small, chaste, teasing. 

He moves a hand to Dave’s back, running fingers up and down his spine. He’s a fan of the backless look the dress has, he’ll have to remember to tell Kanaya she did a great job. And tip her extra. 

“Hmm, how should I go about that?” he says consideringly. The hand on Dave’s hip trails down, brushing the hem of the skirt. He inches his fingers back up Dave’s thigh, the fabric bunching around his wrist. “Maybe I should suck you off under your skirt. Or I could have you ride me in your pretty little dress, does that sound good? Or maybe…”

Karkat presses open-mouthed kisses up and down Dave’s neck before coming to bite at his earlobe as his hand rubs teasingly at Dave’s thigh.

“Maybe I should have you suck _me_ off,” he says, tugging Dave’s forward so he can grind their hips together. Blood is pooling south and Karkat is quickly getting hard. “Tie your hands behind your back and have you use your mouth like--what was it you said before? ‘Like a good wife should’?” He pulls back slightly to look at Dave’s face, dropping another kiss to his lips. 

“What do you think, baby?” he asks. “Have any preferences?”

-

Dave was going to fucking die and Karkat was the one digging the grave. 

Dave lets out a little moan as Karkat grinds their hips together and he feels how hard Karkat is getting. He pictures himself on his knees, not allowed to touch, with Karkat’s cock just pulled out of his pants, still fully dressed. With Dave not allowed to touch, only using his mouth to make Karkat feel as good as he can. 

Dave feels heat coiling around in his stomach like a large, hot snake, and he feels yet another tremble shudder through him from head to toe. 

“The...the last one sounds good,” Dave murmurs, unable to meet Karkat’s gaze again. 

Karkat can lead the way. His big, strong man, taking care of him like always. Showing Dave what to do, how to be _good_ for him…

-

Dave is so fucking _shy_ right now and it’s making his heart melt. He loves when Dave is confident, too, of course, but He’s so rarely like this and Karkat plans to appreciate every second.

Karkat kisses down his neck, across his shoulder, until he reaches the thin strap of the dress.

“Turn around then, baby,” he says. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Dave turns, wobbling slightly in his heels, and Karkat removes his tie, eyeing the expanse of Dave’s back and appreciating how his ass looks in the dress. He plants a kiss between Dave’s shoulder blades before wrapping the tie around Dave’s wrists. It’s snug but Karkat makes sure he can fit two of his fingers in as well before tying it off.

“How’s that, sweetheart?” he asks gently. “Too tight?”

-

Ohh, god, they're really doing this.

Dave turns around and puts his hands behind his back like Karkat tells him to. His eyes flutter closed at the warm kiss on his back, and he holds his breath when he hears the tie get pulled away from Karkat's neck and then get wrapped securely around Dave's wrists.

He's never been tied up before. Dave was a bit worried he would wind up hating it, that being tied down or anything that would render him useless and unable to move or get away would make him panic. If he'd tried this kind of shit with his past partners, he probably would have.

But it's Karkat, so it's okay. He's safe.

Dave tests the tie, giving his wrists a bit of a tug. It's secure, but not too constrictive that he would lose circulation or anything.

Dave shakes his head. "No, it's good," he says.

He wants to turn around, he wants to see Karkat, but...Karkat hasn't told him what to do yet. That was the point of this little game they were in now, right? Maybe it was kinda old school and weirdly misogynistic as fuck, but...Dave was the dutiful wife. Karkat was the husband. Dave wouldn't do anything without Karkat's word.

So he waits.

-

Karkat nods, even though Dave can’t see him. He expects Dave to turn around, but he just stays still, and… is he waiting for Karkat to _tell_ him to? Oh, fuck, okay, that’s ridiculously hot. And it gives him an idea.

Instead of having Dave turn around, Karkat presses up against his back, hands wrapping around to run up and down Dave’s front, thumbing at a nipple when he feels it hardening. He kisses the back of Dave’s neck and the tops of his shoulders as he thinks.

“We’re going to do things a bit differently this time, okay baby?” he says. “You won’t be able to tell me if you need me to stop, and you won’t be able to hit my leg or anything with your hands behind your back.”

He takes a moment to bite at the curve of Dave’s neck, sucking a dark bruise there as Dave gasps.

“It’ll be tempting but I’m not gonna fuck that pretty face of yours,” he says. “I’m going to give you orders and you’re going to follow them, and if you need to stop or take a break, this way you can. Does that sound okay, babe? Are you gonna be good and listen to your husband?”

It’s weird and thrilling to use that word, and one day it will even be _true_. Karkat can’t fucking wait.

-

Karkat doesn’t tell him to move, instead he presses up against Dave and runs his hands over Dave’s chest. The sound of Karkat’s palms running over the smooth, shiny fabric sounds so soft and sweet and also really fucking sensual. Dave stays still, even though he desperately wants to grind his ass against Karkat’s dick. He can’t. Karkat hasn’t told him to do anything yet. He just needed to stand here and look pretty and let Karkat touch him. Dave keeps his eyes closed and tries not to tremble as Karkat kisses his bare shoulders and the back of his neck.

_I’m going to give you orders and you’re going to follow them._

Dave couldn’t stop the shiver that hits him at that if he tried. The words strike him like bolts of lightning.

— _husband_.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dave whispers, his voice high and soft and breathless. “I’ll be good.”

-

Dave shudders and for a moment Karkat thinks he’s gone too far, somehow, that Dave doesn’t want to do this anymore, but then Dave speaks and he realizes that his beautiful boyfriend--no, his wife, Dave is his wife right now--is turned on. He grins against Dave’s neck.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he says. “I know you will.”

He lets his hands fall and steps back, taking another long look at Dave standing there obediently. His hands fumble to unbutton and unzip his pants, but doesn’t pull his dick out yet.

“Okay,” he says, voice thick. His heart pounds in his ears. “Turn around and get on your knees, baby.”

-

Karkat steps away, and Dave waits. He still hasn’t been told what to do, so he just stands very still, hands tied behind his back, and waits for Karkat to give him—

_fuck_

An order.

Dave listens closely as Karkat undoes his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper. Dave licks his lips. Karkat finally speaks again, telling Dave to turn around and get to his knees.

The words go right the fuck to Dave’s dick. He turns around slowly, especially not wanting to trip now that his hands are tied (Karkat would catch him, he knows, but he still doesn’t want to). Dave takes a moment to look at Karkat, standing there with his pants undone, hard cock straining behind his briefs just past the open zipper, and Dave’s mouth waters.

He lowers himself down, which with heels on and his hands tied feels like trying to do so on stilts. Dave fears he’ll pitch forward, but manages to get down onto his knees without any accidents. Karkat looms over him now, and it feels...

 _right_.

Dave is in his place. He’s always taller than Karkat, even without the heels. But now, on his knees like this, the dynamic is where it should be.

Dave looks up at Karkat through his lashes, and waits again to be told what else to do.

-

Dave carefully turns around and gets to his knees and Karkat is ready to catch him if he stumbles or falls, but he does it without any problem. He peers up at Karkat with his red eyes, framed by thick lashes, and Karkat reaches out to cup his cheek, thumb swiping over the freckles there. His other hand plucks the shades from atop Dave’s head and tucks them into his collar for safekeeping.

“Look at you,” he breathes. “You’re so beautiful, Dave. Can’t take my eyes off you.”

Karkat waits until Dave is nuzzling into his palm to pull his hand away and reach into his pants to free his cock. He grabs the base and grips Dave’s hair, tilting his head up so Karkat can watch as he traces Dave’s mouth with the head of his cock. 

“Let me feel those pretty lips on my dick, baby,” he says. His face feels hot; he hadn’t considered the fact that he would actually have to _say_ this shit when he came up with this idea. Karkat is awkward as fuck when it comes to dirty talk. But hopefully if he just… doesn’t acknowledge it Dave won’t notice.

“Lick up under--yeah, just like that,” he says, Dave eagerly tracing the tip of his tongue on the underside of his dick, then hesitating before kissing the tip, his eyes flicking questioningly up to Karkat’s face. He has to fight back a smile. “So sweet for me, Dave. Such a good wife.”

-

Karkat strokes Dave’s cheeks and Dave automatically nuzzles into the touch. The only way he’s going to get to touch Karkat is from what Karkat gives him, so he would have to seize any opportunity he got. He almost whines when Karkat takes his hand away, but he refrains.

A good wife wouldn’t whine. He has to force himself to keep his expression neutral, though he’s sure his eyes are betraying his disappointment.

That feeling quickly dissipates when Karkat pulls his cock out of his pants, however. Dave’s breath hitches as Karkat grabs Dave’s hair, pulling his head back and running the tip of his cock over Dave’s lips.

It takes everything Dave has not to surge forward and just take what he wants. He breathes in Karkat’s heady, intoxicating scent, feeling like he could get drunk from it. Then Karkat’s giving him the green light, so Dave’s tongue comes out and starts licking around the head, then along the underside. Karkat said he wanted to feel Dave’s lips, so he gives the head a little kiss and then looks up at Karkat for approval.

Karkat likes it. He’s doing good. He’s a good wife.

Dave feels tingly all over. His panties feel so tight now that his dick is hard, it strains against the lace. The panties have his dick pressed down so much however that it doesn’t cause a tent in his skirt. Dave wonders if there’s precum in the lace of the panties, now.

The thought of that gets him even more hot. He continues his kitten licks and kisses to the head and underside of Karkat’s dick, desperately wanting more, wanting to take Karkat down all the way. But Karkat didn’t tell him to.

Karkat said he wouldn’t fuck his face, that he was going to tell Dave exactly how to suck him off. Dave lets out a little groan, rolling his tongue over Karkat’s flushed, thick, sensitive cockhead.

-

Dave keeps going with his little kisses and licks and Karkat hums his approval, running his hand through Dave’s hair. Dave is listening to him so well, doing everything he says, and it makes his cock throb. He wonders if Dave can feel it against his lips.

He tightens his hand in Dave’s hair, stopping him from moving back in. Dave looks up at him with wide eyes.

“That’s enough of that,” Karkat says. “You’ve been good, so I think you deserve a little more, don’t you? Open your mouth, baby.”

Dave’s mouth falls open without hesitation and Karkat pauses before pushing inside. Dave usually swallows him down right away and Karkat fucking loves it, but that’s not what they’re doing right now.

“Don’t be greedy,” he says, holding his cock close enough that he can feel Dave’s warm breath on it. “I’ll give you more when you’ve earned it. Just the head for now.”

With that, he moves Dave’s head forward, the tip of his cock enveloped in warmth as Dave wraps his lips around it and sucks. Karkat’s breath stutters and his eyes fall shut for a moment and he has to restrain himself from bucking his hips and shoving his dick down Dave’s throat.

When he opens his eyes, Dave is looking up at him, suckling at his tip obediently. 

“Doing great, Dave,” Karkat says, voice breathy. “Use your tongue, sweetheart, you know I love that.”

-

Karkat grips Dave’s hair and moves his cock just out of Dave’s reach. Dave looks up at him curiously, wondering if he did something wrong. When Karkat says _that’s enough_ another shiver runs through Dave, anticipation and arousal and a bit of anxiety flowing through him. Then Karkat tells him he’s been good, that he deserves more, and the anxiety fades completely.

Karkat tells him to open his mouth so Dave opens wide, but Karkat doesn’t put his cock in his mouth. Dave blinks, confused, and looks back up at Karkat again.

_Don’t be greedy._

Dave almost snaps his lips shut completely. But Karkat told him to open his mouth, so he resists the urge by quickly licking his lips and parting them again, less widely this time. That seems to do the trick, because then Karkat starts to push against the back of Dave’s head, guiding him towards his cock as he tells Dave he’s only allowed to suck on the head.

Dave’s eyes flutter closed as he takes the head into his mouth and sucks on it gently. He hears Karkat’s breath hitch and Dave makes a small, pleased sound, knowing he’s making Karkat feel good. Dave opens his eyes, trying to see Karkat’s face, eyes closed in pleasure. Karkat opens his eyes and their gazes meet. Dave’s blinks once, still sucking, waiting for Karkat to give him more instruction.

More tongue. Okay. He can definitely do that.

Dave makes a little hum to show he’s listening, his eyes closing again as he sucks more insistently at the head, parting his lips so Karkat can watch Dave circle his tongue round and round, flick it across his slit, a little throaty moan coming out of him as he picks up precum on the tip of his tongue. He’s feeling a lot less nervous now, being able to focus his attention on Karkat’s pleasure rather than what Dave himself looks like. As long as Karkat says he’s pretty, that’s all that matters.

-

Dave’s eyes slip shut and he looks fucking _content_ , on his knees in a dress with his hands behind his back, sucking and licking at Karkat’s cock. A groan builds in his throat and he doesn’t bother muffling it, letting Dave hear how he’s affecting him. 

He gets delightful glimpses of Dave’s cute pink tongue swirling around the head of his cock and his hips thrust forward slightly, just once, out of his control. He grits his teeth and tells himself it won’t happen again.

“Mm--Good, baby, just like that,” he says. “Look at my p-pretty wife, sucking her husband’s-- _mm_ mmm--cock, ju- _u_ st like she should.”

It’s only after the words fall out of his mouth that Karkat realizes he fucked up Dave’s pronouns, slipping into the female ones because his stupid fucking brain got stuck on _wife_. He looks down, trying to gauge Dave’s reaction.

-

Dave’s cock twitches in his panties at Karkat’s words, a moan breaking out of him as his lips part. Karkat’s grip on his hair went a little slack, and Dave’s too fucking far gone to be obedient any more.

He surges forward and takes as much of Karkat’s cock into his mouth as he can. Dave moans loudly at the full feeling in his mouth, the taste, the weight on his tongue. He bobs his head and then tries to sink even lower, desperately and hopelessly turned on.

Karkat said it himself—this is what a good wife _does_. Dave can only hope it makes Karkat happy and makes him feel good, even though he isn’t following orders right now. He just couldn’t help himself.

-

Dave apparently likes it a fucking lot, if the way he sinks onto Karkat’s dick is any indication. Karkat gasps, eyes rolling back at the sensation, before he remembers that _Dave isn’t supposed to do that._

He grabs Dave’s hair roughly and pulls him off his dick, ignoring the whine of protest that Dave gives.

“You were doing so _good_ , Dave,” Karkat says accusingly. Fuck, he wants Dave’s mouth back on him immediately. But Dave took more than Karkat told him too. What the fuck is he supposed to do about this? “I told you not to be greedy. Do you think this is how a wife should act? Disobeying her husband?”

Fuck, Karkat feels like a mysogynistic asshole, talking like this. But it’s fine, right? It’s just an act.

-

Dave gasps when Karkat grabs his hair and yanks him off of his dick, and the whine that Dave makes should embarrass the hell out of him but he’s too busy being painfully turned on by Karkat being forceful, by the accusatory tone of his voice.

Dave stares up at Karkat, eyes wide, mouth wet, his chest heaving for breath.

“N-no,” Dave gasps, “I’m...I’m sorry—I just—“

Dave clamps his mouth shut. There’s no point making excuses. Karkat told him not to be greedy and he didn’t listen. Dave stares up at Karkat, and waits quietly for what Karkat will do to correct Dave’s behaviour.

-

Karkat frowns, mind racing. It’s hard to think when Dave’s staring up at him with wide eyes, inches away from his dick. 

“Maybe I should just take care of this myself,” Karkat says, reaching down to pump his dick, his other hand gripping Dave’s hair firmly. “Since I can’t trust you to do as I say.”

He swipes his thumb around the head of his cock and moans, loud and exaggerated. 

“I could leave you here on your knees and go get myself off in the bathroom,” he says, pretending to give it actual thought. “What do you think, Dave? Since you can’t behave should I remove the temptation?”

There’s no fucking way Karkat is going anywhere, but as long as Dave thinks he will it might be enough to get him to fucking _listen_.

-

Karkat starts jerking himself off, his dick still mere inches away from Dave’s face but Karkat has such a grip on Dave’s hair that Dave couldn’t get away even if he tried. And even if he could there’s no way he was going to act out again when Karkat threatened him with _leaving_.

… _God_ , Karkat could stand to be mean like this a little more often, though. It was mad sexy as hell and Dave was into it.

Dave lets out a little whine and tries to shake his head, but then he’s worried that’ll look like him struggling so he stops, and just starts babbling out apologies instead.

“Baby, baby, * _no_ *—please don’t go, Karkat, please don’t please—I’ll be good, baby, I promise I’ll be good, I’ll take anything you give me, I’ll do anything you want, please baby, I’m * _sorry_ *—“

-

Karkat’s grip loosens in Dave’s hair as he apologizes. He goes back to petting it gently, making a single _shh_ that shuts Dave up immediately.

“That’s better, baby,” he says approvingly. “That’s what I like to hear. You’re gonna be a good girl and do exactly as I say, aren’t you?”

Dave nods quickly, but it doesn’t quite feel like _enough_ , so when Karkat tells him to open his mouth again, he doesn’t immediately let Dave go back to sucking his dick. Instead, he slides his fingers inside. Dave automatically begins slicking them up and Karkat yanks them back.

“Did I tell you to move your tongue?” he snaps, and Dave’s eyes go wide. 

This time when Karkat slips his fingers in, Dave keeps still, staring up at him. Karkat thrusts his fingers in and out, drags a finger pad along the soft length of Dave’s tongue, pinches his lower lip and tugs. Dave remains still through it all, looking at him with lust-dark eyes, and even keeps his mouth open as Karkat withdraws his hand.

“There’s my good girl,” he says, stroking Dave’s hair. “We’re gonna try this again, and you’re going to be grateful that your husband thinks you look pretty enough with a cock in your mouth to give you a second chance. Are you grateful, baby?”

-

Where the _fuck_ has this side of Karkat been all this time? It was almost a good thing that Dave hasn’t known about it before now, because this was nearly too fucking hot to handle.

Karkat asks if Dave is grateful and Dave nods his head quickly. He doesn’t say anything, he just nods, worried if he gets too chatty he’ll be punished again. And if he doesn’t get Karkat’s dick back in his mouth he’s going to implode. He can’t have any more setbacks.

Dave stares up at Karkat, lips parted gently, eyes wide, ready to accept whatever his husba—

 _Her_.

Whatever her husband thinks she deserves.

-

Dave nods but he doesn’t say anything and Karkat frowns. He runs his thumb along Dave’s lower lip, red with abuse.

“You won’t get in trouble for talking, sweetheart,” he says. Dave needs to be able to communicate with him, let Karkat know if he’s going too far, and he might not if he thinks Karkat doesn’t want him to speak. “You know I love your voice.”

He grabs the base of his dick and buries his hand in Dave’s hair, gripping tightly; a reminder and a warning. He pushes Dave’s head forward and his lips wrap around him, and oh fuck, Karkat’s so hard it _hurts_. He isn’t going to be able to keep teasing Dave like this for long.

“Just the tip,” he says warningly. “I won’t be so forgiving next time.”

-

When Karkat frowns it’s like all the fluid in Dave’s stomach turns to ice. Fuck, what did he do—he’s still figuring out all the rules, all of Karkat’s patterns. What sets him off, what should he avoid? What are the rules—

Karkat _wants_ him to speak. That makes Dave’s belly go warm again, but also squirmy—a good squirmy, but he’s still tingling a bit from nerves. He doesn’t want to fuck up again, and get another correction. He wants to be good.

“S-sorry, I’m ready, I’m—I’m grateful,” Dave says softly.

Karkat grips his hair again and pushes him forwards and Dave wraps his lips around the head of Karkat’s cock and his eyes flutter closed in bliss.

_I won’t be so forgiving next time._

Dave shivers, but it’s not from fear. His cock is so fucking hard he idly wonders if it could rip through the lace panties. He hopes not, he doesn’t want them ruined before Karkat gets a chance to see them, after all.

Dave doesn’t move his tongue—Karkat hasn’t told him to, yet. He just keeps the tip of Karkat’s cock warm in his mouth and looks up at Karkat and blinks expectantly.

-

Dave takes him into his mouth and doesn’t do anything else, his gorgeous eyes looking up at Karkat as he waits for an order, and Karkat smiles. He lets his hold on Dave’s hair loosen the smallest bit.

“Good girl,” he says. “Go on, you can use your tongue baby, and suck--mm, mmhmm, like that.”

It feels so fucking good, what Dave is doing, but Karkat wants more. And Dave’s been good, he apologized and he waited and he’s doing as Karkat says. He deserves a reward, doesn’t he?

“Okay, baby,” Karkat says. “You can take more of me. Not too much yet, just halfway. Sink down--yeah, that’s right.”

Dave moves down eagerly, but remains still once he has more of Karkat’s cock in his mouth, and Karkat’s chest fills with an odd sort of pride. He lets his grip on Dave’s hair go slack, resting his hand on Dave’s head as Dave warms his cock.

“There’s my sweet, obedient wife,” he practically coos. “I knew she was in there. Bob your head, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

-

Karkat says _good girl_ and Dave moans around Karkat's dick, nearly delirious from how turned on he is right now. He wants to touch himself so bad to relieve some of the ache, but his hands are tied and this is about Karkat's pleasure right now, not his own.

Dave listens carefully to all of Karkat's instructions, sinking down just a little bit more when he says to but doesn't move, waiting for Karkat to tell him just what he wants. Dave's eyes are still closed but he feels the vice-grip in his hair loosen until Karkat's just resting his palm on Dave's head.

Then Karkat tells him to start moving, so he does. He makes sure he only goes down as far as Karkat has allowed so far, not wanting to be greedy. It feels so good to finally get to move, to suck Karkat off the way he _deserves_. Dave wishes he could go deeper, but Karkat hasn't told him he could yet.

Karkat wanted him to use lots of tongue, suck him, take him halfway down, and he wanted to hear Dave. Obviously Dave couldn't speak right now, but he makes sure to make what noise he can, moaning and sighing as he bobs his head back and forth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he tastes Karkat on his tongue, feels him stretching his lips without even taking the whole thing...it's perfect. It's right where he should be. On his knees, making Karkat feel good, _serving_ him as his dutiful little wife.

-

Karkat moans as Dave moves, torn between wanting to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation or watch every moment. Dave has his eyes shut as he bobs his head, careful not to take more than he’s told to. He makes the sweetest sounds, little muffled moans and contented sighs, and heat builds in Karkat’s gut.

He doesn’t want to deny himself his orgasm much longer, but he’s also not ready for this to end so soon. He bites his lip.

“Fuck,” he says. “Okay, baby, since you’re being so good and I know how eager you are, I’m gonna give you what you want. Take me all the way, honey, into your throat--oh f _uck_...”

Dave doesn’t hesitate, sinking to the base of his cock. Karkat’s eyes roll back and his knees feel weak for a moment but he gets it together enough to gasp out, “ _move_ ,” as his hands bury themselves in Dave’s hair. But he doesn’t thrust, doesn’t push.

-

Karkat finally, _finally_ lets Dave take him all the way. Dave doesn’t waste any time, desperately eager to please. He sinks all the way down to the base and groans when Karkat’s cock hits the back of his throat.

_Move—_

Karkat doesn’t need to ask twice. Dave starts sucking earnestly, moving back and forth as he bobs his head to give Karkat that much-needed friction. Dave shuffles forwards a bit more on his knees, trying to get a little closer so he doesn’t have to strain as he takes Karkat all the way down over and over again.

Dave’s brain is entirely empty except for blissful fog and the desire to be good and make Karkat cum. He wants Karkat to spill down his throat and Dave wants to swallow down every drop obediently, he wants everything Karkat will give to him.

_Come on, baby, cum for me—_

-

Oh god, fuck, Dave is too fucking good at this. It barely takes anything before Karkat is tensing up, his toes curling, legs shaking as he spills down Dave’s throat. Dave swallows around him, drinks his cum down until Karkat can’t take it anymore and has to pull away, breathing heavily.

He tucks his softening dick back into his briefs and sinks to the floor, pulling Dave into a kiss. He can taste himself in Dave’s mouth and that never stops being hot.

“You did so good, baby,” he pants, pulling back just enough to pepper kisses across Dave’s cheeks. “Holy fuck. You want me to untie you, Dave?”

His hands are already reaching around, resting on the fabric keeping Dave’s wrists together. 

-

Karkat cums hard down Dave's throat and Dave drinks him all down and keeps sucking until Karkat pulls away, and Dave lets out a little gasp for air. Then Karkat is down on his knees, joining Dave down on the floor and kissing him. Dave sighs into the kiss, blissed out and happy he was able to make Karkat feel good.

Karkat asks if Dave wants to be untied but Dave...isn't honestly sure. Being tied up and at Karkat's mercy like this was fucking thrilling, and secure--it made Dave feel like he could really think clearly. He didn't have to worry about his hands, about touching himself or Karkat when he wasn't allowed, when he hadn't been told to. The tie kept him being _good_.

"...I wanna keep it on," Dave murmurs softly, "if that's okay."

-

Karkat blinks, surprised, but he withdraws his hands, instead using them to cup Dave’s face.

“Of course that’s okay, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss Dave’s forehead. “As long as you aren’t losing circulation. Are your hands okay?”

Dave nods and Karkat smiles, this time kissing Dave on the tip of his nose.

“Then it stays on,” he says. “Let’s sit you on the bed. It’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He carefully helps Dave stand and leads him over to sit on the edge of the bed. Karkat settles on his knees and pushes Dave’s legs apart. He’s not sure if this really falls in line with their roleplay thing, but Karkat wants to suck Dave off so bad his mouth is watering.

Karkat kisses the inside Dave’s knee and up his thigh, until he feels the fabric of Dave’s dress against his face. He shoots a smile up at Dave as he slowly pushes the skirt up, bunching the fabric as he reveals more of the creamy skin of Dave’s thighs.

He expects to see Dave’s boxers, or maybe reveal that Dave isn’t wearing anything at all under his dress, but what he gets is much, much better. Dave’s dick is straining against a pair of lacy red panties, the flushed head peeking out and leaking all over, dribbing precum onto Dave’s stomach and the fabric constraining it.

“ _Oh_ ,” Karkat breathes, eyes going wide. Oh holy goddamn fuck, Kanaya is getting one hell of a tip.

-

Karkat helps Dave to his feet and sits him down on the bed, and Dave feels excitedly anticipated butterflies fluttering around in his stomach at the prospect of Karkat making _him_ feel good, now. Karkat rewarding him for all his good behaviour, for making him cum.

Dave feels warmth ooze all over his whole body at the image of Karkat kneeling down in front of him in his perfectly-fitted suit, pushing Dave’s skinny legs apart. He watches as Karkat starts to push up his skirt, slowly revealing more of his thighs, until—

Dave braces his tied hands on the bed behind him, watching Karkat’s pupils expand at the sight of the panties. Dave’s cock is practically popping out of them at this point, leaking precum onto his stomach. He sees some got on the pretty red lace, and clicks his tongue.

“I made such a mess,” Dave says regretfully. He’s feeling a lot more relaxed now, and is able to get into the play a bit more, really donning the role of Housewife, “I’ll have to do laundry later.”

Dave bites his lip and rolls his hips a little, and the movement makes the panties rub against his cock, making it visibly twitch. Karkat’s eyes get even wider at that, and Dave feels a swell of pride rush through him at the sight.

“Will you help me clean up, _dear_?” Dave asks, a cheeky smile threatening to tug at his mouth. He bites his lip again to try and hold it back.

-

Karkat manages to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous sight of Dave’s cock straining against the lace to glance up. Dave’s eyes flicker in amusement and Karkat’s lips twitch up. He’s glad Dave is relaxed enough to have fun with this, now.

“I can do that,” Karkat says, resting his cheek against Dave’s thigh, eyes drinking in the image in front of him until Dave rolls his hips again, pointedly, and Karkat looks back up. “Oh, did you mean _now_?”

He turns to muffle his laugh in Dave’s thigh at the look his boyfriend gives him and decides to stop being such an asshole. He leans in and presses his lips against the soft lace, flicking his tongue out to lick over it at Dave’s hard cock.

His tongue traces the outline of Dave’s dick before he starts focusing on lapping up the precum dampening the lace, then licks up the mess on Dave’s stomach before finally swiping over the head of Dave’s cock and cleaning up there, too. He can’t resist dropping a kiss to the flushed head before pulling back and smirking up at Dave’s red face.

“All done, _honey_ ,” he says. “Was there anything else you needed?”

-

Karkat is such a little shit, teasing Dave after Dave was so good for him—maybe this was more payback for being greedy earlier.

The pout on his face instantly disappears once Karkat presses his lips to the lace, and then he melts as he feels Karkat’s warm tongue flick against his cock. Dave wants to touch so badly, he would absolutely be digging his hands into Karkat’s hair right now if he wasn’t tied up. Dave rolls his hips again, and lets out another little gasp as Karkat starts to lick up the precum from the lace, his stomach, and the head of his cock.

Dave’s hands are gripping tightly into the sheets behind his back once Karkat is finished cleaning up and looks back up at Dave.

“I wanna cum,” Dave whines, not caring about how pathetic he sounds by this point, “please, baby...I need you so bad...”

-

The smirk melts off his face, replaced by an expression that’s painfully fond. Karkat kneads his hands into the muscles of Dave’s thighs.

“Oh, Dave,” he says gently. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll give you what you need, baby.”

He was considering making Dave cum just by teasing over his cock through the panties, but now he reaches up and carefully frees Dave’s dick. He doesn’t waste any time in taking it in his mouth and sinking to the base, feeling it push past the tight muscles of his throat as Dave cries out.

Dave probably won’t last long, either, so Karkat enjoys the feel of him on his tongue while he can, swallowing around his cock and letting out a loud moan before he starts to bob his head, taking Dave as deep as possible each time.

-

“Oohhhhhh fuck oh fuck oh fuuuuuck—“ Dave cries out, arching his hips up as Karkat takes him all the way to the back of his throat.

He pulls his hips back with a gasp, not wanting to fuck Karkat’s face—that’s not what Karkat said he’d do, he was just going to help Dave out, help him cum. Dave had to let Karkat lead the way, he couldn’t go shoving his cock down his throat.

Dave leans backwards until he’s laying on his arms. With his arms pressed into his back, causing the small of his back to arch, Dave isn’t able to thrust his hips. This way Karkat could keep things at his own pace.

“B-baby, ffffuuck, please, I—“ Dave lets out a desperate whining keen as his cock throbs, “Kar-Karkat—“

-

Dave lays back and says Karkat’s name like a prayer. It sends a rush of affection through him and he picks up his pace, redoubles his efforts to make Dave feel as good as possible. 

He feels his dick twitch in his boxers, trying valiantly to get hard again. Dave’s voice is so pretty as he falls apart, as Karkat takes him apart, makes his wife feel better and better until she’s keening for him. 

His hands grip at Dave’s thighs, pressing bruises into the skin, and Karkat feels drool dribbling down his chin and onto the panties, which Dave looks so, so beautiful in. Karkat wants to fuck him in them, move them aside and pin Dave against the wall in his pretty dress and take him from behind.

-

It doesn’t take Dave much longer to careen over the edge once Karkat starts to pick up the pace. His legs spasm as jolts of pleasure shoot up and down his spine, sending searing hot heat all through his body, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

Karkat squeezes hard at Dave’s thighs, deep enough to bruise, and the sting is delightful, it sends bolts of pleasurepain in between the overwhelming pleasure from Karkat’s mouth, both sensations complementing and making each other more intense. 

Finally the heat all throughout him comes to a boil and he cums hard down Karkat’s throat, feeling his cock twitch and spasm as he pumps again and again and again until he slumps back into the mattress panting for air.

-

Karkat swallows down every drop, sucking Dave through his orgasm. He keeps going, even after Dave’s gone soft, until he’s writhing and whimpering on the mattress, and only then does he let Dave’s spent dick slip out of his mouth. He carefully tucks it back into the panties and pulls down the skirt of the dress.

He crawls onto the bed, leaning over Dave, whose eyes are wet. He’s panting, chest heaving, and Karkat kisses along his jaw as he catches his breath. When Dave’s come down a bit he nudges him up, making him sit again.

“C’mon,” he says. “Don’t lay on your arms like that for too long. How are you feeling, baby?”

-

Karkat keeps sucking on Dave until it practically _hurts_ from oversensitivity, then he comes up and gently presses kisses to Dave’s face as he calms down. He blinks and realizes there’s tears in his eyes—Dave hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. That was kind of embarrassing.

Karkat pulls him up to a seated position again, and Dave feels his shoulders cry out in relief. Yeah, laying on his arms like that wasn’t exactly the most comfortable. His arms are tingling a little and he wants to shake them out to get some feeling back into them.

“Could you untie me now, please?” Dave asks, squirming his arms as though for emphasis.

He’d just have to try and keep being good on his own, without the tie. Maybe now that’s he’s already came once he won’t be quite as needy and desperate and will be able to control himself a bit more.

Maybe.

-

Karkat immediately leans back and starts working at the knot. It takes a few tries but he soon gets it off, pulling the tie away from Dave’s wrists and carefully bringing his arms around. He rubs at Dave’s wrists with his hands, concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Do your arms hurt?”

Maybe tying Dave up was a bad idea. 

-

Aw, his sweet, caring, protective, doting mother hen of a boyfriend. Or, in this particular instance, husband.

Dave smiles and snakes his arms around Karkat’s shoulders, as if to show Karkat they can still function. Mostly he just wants to hug.

“Sweetheart, I’m fine,” he says. Then he wiggles his eyebrows a little. “Nothin’ a little rub down from my big handsome man wouldn’t fix in a jiffy.”

-

Dave pulls him into a hug and Karkat melts into it, wrapping his arms around Dave’s waist and burying his face in his neck. He gives a soft laugh.

“You want a shoulder rub, babe?” he says. “There are easier ways to ask for it. C’mon, lay down.”

He grabs a pillow and pulls it closer and has Dave lay on his stomach. Around now is the time he’d bust out the massage oils, but…

“I don’t wanna get your dress dirty,” he says. “Don’t think I can use any massage oil this time, babe.”

-

“That’s okay,” Dave says as he rests his cheek on his arms, folding them under his head as he lays out on his stomach. “I just want your hands on me.”

It feels odd to be lounging on the bed in a fancy dress and heels, but fuck it. This way Karkat could really check out Dave’s back in the dress. Karkat always went on about how much he liked Dave’s back, after all. It was a bit of a map of scars back there, but Dave is glad Karkat seems to like it despite how marred it is.

-

Dave’s words make Karkat smile and he leans in to press a few kisses to Dave’s spine before sitting up and getting to work. It’s much more difficult to give a massage without the oil but Karkat tries his damnedest. 

And Dave’s back looks so wonderful framed by the red fabric around it. Karkat starts near Dave’s neck and slowly works his way down, making sure to pay extra attention to his shoulders, hoping they don’t ache too much. He’s going to have to look up bondage safety shit after this so if they ever try this again he’ll know what the fuck he’s doing.

At least he knows how to give a massage. Dave sighs and moans sweetly beneath his hands as he works his way down, until he reaches the border of the dress. The hem? Is it still called a hem if it’s not like, the skirt part? Kanaya would be terribly disappointed in him.

He’s not ready to stop the massage quite yet so, after a moment’s hesitation, he scoots down and digs his fingers into the muscles of Dave’s thighs. The dress bunches up around his hands as he slowly works his way higher and higher, until he feels the swell of Dave’s ass. He pushes the skirt up to rest around Dave’s waist, eyes drinking in the sight of Dave’s cute little ass in lace panties as his thumbs press circles into the cheeks.

“You ready for another round, babe?” he asks.

-

Karkat’s hands are big and warm and move expertly around Dave’s back. Dave swears Karkat is so goddamn good at this, he could be a masseuse—wait, shit, that wasn’t the right term. Well, it sorta was in their case since Dave is pretty sure the word has sexy connotations. But actual, like...professionals are called massage therapists. Did Karkat have to take some kind of exam to get a license and shit? It was probably better than working at a café—nice smells and calming music but the customers don’t talk. 

Dave should bring it up. So long as he’s the only one who continues to get happy endings, of course. 

Dave would bring it up now if he wasn’t preoccupied with blissing out on the massage. He lets out little moans and sighs and long, grateful groans as Karkat kneads muscles he hadn’t even known were sore. 

Then he goes down and massages his legs, the backs of his thighs...then up, under the skirt, pushing up the fabric until Dave’s ass is completely exposed. Showing off the panties from a different angle, now. Dave lets out a little sigh as Karkat presses circular, slow motions into his ass, deeply kneading at the muscles. 

Karkat gave Dave massages all the time, and six times out of ten it actually didn’t lead to sex. 60/40 was a very commendable split for them. They were kind of hopelessly horny. 

This particular massage is definitely in that 40% range. It’s sensual, being rubbed down while wearing a dress and heels and panties. Having the skirt bunched up and pushed over his ass, having his ass touched and rubbed while wearing the panties...

Dave is already hard again, his dick pressed between his stomach and the mattress and the confines of the lace. He rolls his hips back to press his ass into Karkat’s touch. 

“Yeah, baby,” Dave says, a little moan breaking his voice, “please, I want more...”

-

Karkat smiles, giving Dave’s ass a squeeze before pulling away to lean across the bed, reaching for the drawer in Dave’s nightstand. He fumbles blindly for the lube and a condom and leans back, victorious.

“I’ll give you more, baby,” he promises. “Spread your legs.”

He settles himself down between Dave’s spread thighs and runs his hand over the soft lace panties once more before tugging them to the side. He pops the lid on the lube.

Dave probably doesn’t _need_ a lot of prep but he’s going to get it. Karkat spreads Dave’s ass and lets the lube dribble down over Dave’s hole, earning him a surprised intake of breath. He sets the lube aside and traces Dave’s rim lightly with his fingertip, grinning when Dave whines and tries to shove his hips back.

“Shhh,” he says, pushing his finger inside. “I’ll take care of you, baby. You just lay there and look pretty for me.”

-

Karkat telling Dave to spread his legs is probably in the top-five of Dave’s spank bank, right up there with Bossykat and Karkat-In-A-Sexy-Suit. So having all three combined effectively sends fire straight to Dave’s dick and makes him whine as he spreads his legs apart, the movement rubbing his dick into the mattress.

Dave feels tingles run up and down his back as he feels Karkat pull the panties off to the side. Oh fuck, was Karkat going to fuck him with the panties still on? That was so fucking hot.

He lets out a soft but sharp intake of breath when he feels the lube dribble onto his hole. When Dave lets out a protesting whine and tries to push back on the single, slow-moving and incredibly teasing finger rubbing gently at his rim, Karkat shushes him. That only makes Dave want him even more, but Karkat tells him to just lay there and look pretty, so he doesn’t buck his hips again or make any fuss.

He knows Karkat loves and wants to hear him, though, so he doesn’t stop his sounds as Karkat pushes his finger slowly inside of him. Dave lets out a long moan, grips at the bedsheets, and his toes flex inside of his heels.

“K-Karka _aat_...baby...” Dave sighs softly, rolling his head to the side, cheek pressed into the sheets.

He wants to beg for more, for Karkat to go faster, to _hurry up and fuck him already_. But that’s clearly not what Karkat wants. Karkat wants to take his sweet time pulling Dave apart, and Dave can do nothing but accept his slow, wonderful torture. Karkat would fuck him when Karkat was damn good and ready to, when Dave had _earned_ it.

-

Karkat pumps his finger in and out at a leisurely pace, like he could spend hours doing this. Dave makes the sweetest noises and Karkat smiles. Dave isn’t naturally loud the way Karkat is. He’ll talk your ear off but when it comes to sex he’s surprisingly quiet, which means that he’s being loud _for Karkat_ , because he knows how much Karkat likes it.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” he asks lightly. “Ready for another?”

Dave nods eagerly and Karkat adds his middle finger, sinking up to the second knuckle and spreading his fingers. He watches them sink into Dave over and over as he slowly moves, loving the sounds that Dave makes. He wants to add his tongue to the mix, spend some time eating Dave out, but that could get uncomfortable real fast the way he’s sitting.

He pulls his fingers out, ignoring the needy whine Dave makes, and uses his clean hand to grip Dave’s hip, urging him up.

“Up on your knees, babe,” he says. “C’mon, stick your ass in the air, that’s right.”

This is much better, and it also doesn’t let Dave rub himself against the mattress. The only friction he’ll be getting is from the panties, and if Karkat decides to touch him.

He has to tug the panties aside again, and this time he licks a thick stripe over Dave’s rim before plunging his tongue inside. Dave cries out and Karkat is painfully hard but he ignores it in favor of slipping his fingers back inside.

-

Dave quickly gets up onto his knees, eager to see what Karkat will do. Add his third finger, or just finally get on with it and give him his cock? Karkat pulls the panties aside again and then Dave feels the warm and wet slide of Karkat’s tongue and Dave cries out as he pushes it past his rim.

“Ohhhhh, fuck, baby—s-so good, feels so—nnahh, f-fuck—“ Dave babbles as Karkat tongue-fucks his hole. He’s finding it difficult to stay upright, his legs wobbling. It only gets worse as Karkat adds his fingers back into the mix, and Dave only gets louder.

“Ohhfuckkohfuckfuckfuck—“ Dave is so fucking hard but this change in angle means he can’t rut his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the tension.

Oh, god. Did Karkat do that on purpose? That was so evil and so, so, so incredibly hot and Dave wants Karkat to fuck him so badly that he can hardly stand it.

“Ba-baa-by plee-ase, pl-easeee, wan’ you—ohhfuckk—t-to fffu—aahh—t’fuck m-me, p-pleasee, baby, please—Karkat—“

Karkat told Dave to let him take care of him, to lay still and look pretty. He’s being needy and whiny again, but he doesn’t care, he needs this, needs him, needs Karkat—

-

Dave begs so perfectly, but Karkat isn’t done. He slides his tongue back into his mouth and nips at Dave’s ass as he goes back to fucking Dave on just his two fingers. His dick is aching in his pants and he presses his palm to it and groans, rolling his hips forward.

“Be patient sweetheart,” he tells Dave. “I’ll get there. Just enjoy what I give you.”

He crooks his fingers, massaging against Dave’s prostate until Dave’s legs are trembling. Then he adds a third finger and ignores it completely, letting Dave focus on the stretch, the feeling of Karkat’s fingers against his walls. 

“You’re wonderful, Dave,” he says, leaning in to kiss the base of Dave’s spine. “I love everything about you.”

The words feel almost out of place, too tender and sincere while Karkat is being so cruel, teasing Dave like this. He fumbles to get his dick out of his boxers with one hand and then reaches for the condom before he pauses, making a thoughtful noise.

“You want me to raw you, baby?” he asks, feeling his cheeks grow warm. What the fuck? All the dirty shit he’s been spewing and this is what makes him feel supremely embarrassed? “Want your husband to pump you full of his cum?”

He’s fallen into this a lot easier than he thought he would; it’s been unbearably hot. He hopes Dave thinks so, too, though he doesn’t seem to have many complaints so far.

-

Karkat takes away his tongue and then bites Dave on the ass, making him jolt. Karkat doesn’t replace his tongue with a third finger, still only fucking Dave on two. Dave’s gotten accustomed to them by now so it doesn’t feel like much of anything, especially without any stimulation to his prostate. Dave wants to push back on the fingers and beg for more, but his cock is so hard and he can feel it leaking through the red lace, and there’s nothing but pressure and no relief, no release. Dave can’t even form words anymore, even if he wanted to beg Karkat for more all that comes out of him is broken little whines. An extra long whine comes out of him when he hears Karkat groan, and Dave’s been with him long enough to distinguish it.

Motherfucker, Karkat was touching himself, while Dave was left wanting and suffering. So unfair. But also so, so sexy.

Karkat tells him to be patient and Dave wants to growl and yell in frustration, he wants to tell Karkat to stop teasing him right this minute and let him cum, but this torture is also so delectable that he never, ever wants it to stop.

Karkat finally starts pressing against his prostate and Dave’s mouth hangs open but no sound comes out. Every brush against his prostate sends jolts of fire to his dick, which is pulsing and aching but still no closer to relief. Suddenly the sensation stops and Dave feels Karkat stretch him open even further with a third finger. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t press all three pads of his fingers into that sweet spot, it’s just nothing but a hot stretch, thick and burning and yet still nowhere fucking close to the feeling of Karkat’s cock.

Dave’s white-knuckling the bedsheets at this point, and he feels like he’s screaming at the top of his lungs silently inside his head, because outwardly he can’t do anything but feel.

Then Karkat calls him _wonderful_ , tells him he _loves everything about him_. And it’s so much, it’s so fucking much it’s overflowing—

Dave feels thick tears spill over and run down his cheeks as the praise and the heat all soak into his bones. It feels like his ears are ringing, and he hears Karkat’s voice come through but only makes out a few words.

_Raw—pump you full—_

Dave lets out a loud, desperately wanting sob. “ _Yes_ , god—yes, baby, _please_ —“ Dave gasps out, pressing his hips back, trying to seek out Karkat’s touch, “fill me to the brim, want your cock so fucking bad, baby—fuck me raw, _breed me_ , Karkat, _please_ —“

-

Dave is so fucking hot, begging Karkat to fuck him, and his dick throbs even as his brain hears _breed me_ and shuts the fuck down. Oh, Karkat is definitely going to make Dave talk about that one later. A whole nother kink of Dave’s to explore? Sign Karkat the fuck up.

For now, though, Karkat lubes up his cock, saying, “I’ve got you, baby, I’ll fill you up just like you need, hold on.”

He aligns his dick and pushes in slowly, groaning as the tight wet heat surrounds him. It’s so much _more_ without the thin barrier of the condom between them. He fills Dave inch by inch until his hips are flush with Dave’s ass and he’s gritting his teeth at the effort it takes not to just fuck ruthlessly into him. He knows they both would fucking love it, but Karkat is dedicated to taking this slow, making Dave whine and cry and beg for more.

He starts up a tortuously lazy pace, his hands gripping Dave’s hips as he rocks him unhurriedly onto his cock. It would take all night for either of them to cum if he keeps this up.

“How’s that feel, baby? Is this what you want?” he asks sweetly.

-

Karkat is intent on torturing Dave, it appears, because even after he’s finally inside of him he still doesn’t fuck Dave into the mattress. Dave wanted Karkat to be mean but he’s also starting to think he’s created a fucking monster.

Karkat asks Dave if this is what he wants in a sugary sweet voice when Karkat knows damn well that it isn’t. Is this a test? Does he want Dave to lose his shit, or does he want to see how long Dave can keep up the act of being obedient and just continue to let Karkat fuck into him slow?

It was going to take forever for him to cum like this! Dave worries he might not even cum at all, body too confused and overstimulated to even let out a drop of cum.

What should he do? What’s the right answer? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know—

If he puts on an act of obedience, how long will Karkat let this go on? And if Dave acts up, would Karkat punish him again? Drag this torture out even longer?

“D-don’t wanna be—ah—fucked like your wife—“ Dave gasps out, fingers digging into the sheets. He turns his head to the side, but from this angle he can’t exactly see Karkat.

“Y-you already got me—mmn—on my kn-ees, in this skimpy dress—“ Dave’s voice comes out raw and breathless, “so stop—hahh!—stop fucking m-me like a w-wife and fuck me like a whore, baby.”

-

The moment Dave says _whore_ Karkat freezes. His stomach sinks and his brain races. He and Dave talked about using degrading names, but it's not like Dave is asking _Karkat_ to call him a whore. He just wants it harder, faster, and Karkat's been teasing him for long enough. He can give Dave what he wants.

Hardly a second had passed, and hopefully Dave doesn't notice. Karkat digs his fingers in and slams his cock into Dave, making him cry out. He picks up the pace, moaning as he fucks into his boyfriend like he's wanted to since he first saw him in his dress.

He moans loudly, eyes squeezing shut as his world narrows down to his cock thrusting in and out of his boyfriend. He adjusts the angle so he's hitting Dave's prostate on every pass.

-

Karkat squeezes his fingers into Dave’s hips and shoves himself all the way inside with a brutal thrust and Dave lets out a loud cry that could very well be heard by the neighbours above and below the apartment but Dave is far beyond the point of caring.

God, he’s never this loud. Not even when John is out and he and Karkat can do whatever the hell they want. Karkat’s typically the noisy one, and Dave is a-okay with that. It’s mad sexy and it’s nice to know just how good he was making Karkat feel.

It’s not like Dave never made a sound, he definitely did, just never quite this much. And he certainly never said shit like _breed me_ or _fuck me like a whore._

He was just being method, sue him. As long as Karkat enjoyed it, that’s all that mattered. Even if he thought Dave’s kinky bullshit was a tad fucked up.

Dave is rivalling Karkat’s noise levels for a change, practically shaking the fucking walls with yelps of pleasure and long, loud moans as Karkat slams into him again and again and again. Karkat’s hitting his prostate with every goddamn thrust, Dave’s vision keeps whiting out and when he squeezes his eyes shut, stars burst across the backs of his eyelids.

“G-god f-uuuuck, so fucking good—aahhfuck—K-ka—mmmnnnaahh—Karkat, baby—“

He’s so close, he’s so close, he’s so close. Dave wants to cum so badly but he doesn’t know if he can—what is he allowed to do? Can he touch himself, or should he ask Karkat to do it? Does Karkat want him to cum just from his cock? Cum on his dick and nothing else, like a good wife should. Dave’s hands grip into the sheets, feeling the telltale coil of heat building in his belly.

“W-wan’ c-cummm...” Dave whimpers.

Whatever Karkat wants, Dave will do it. Even if Karkat denies him even more, Dave won’t care. It’s cruel, wonderful torture and Dave wants it to last forever.

-

Karkat is close, he can feel it building, but he wants Dave to cum before him, wants to make sure Dave feels so, so good before Karkat reaches his peak.

"C'mon baby," he pants. "Cum for me, sweetheart."

He's tempted to reach around and wrap his hand around Dave's dick, but he wants Dave to cum untouched. Just from Karkat's cock filling him up, sending jolts of pleasure through him with every thrust.

Dave's voice fills his ears like thick nectar, making his blood run hot. Sweat drips down his back as he moans, his own pleasured noises mixing with Dave's.

-

Karkat tells Dave to cum for him as he continues thrusting in at the same pace, still pressing into Dave’s sweet spot with every deep thrust inside. Karkat doesn’t touch him, and doesn’t mention anything about Dave being able to touch himself. He just said _cum for me._

Dave rolls his hips back to meet Karkat’s thrusts as he presses his forehead into the sheets. His cock is still being pressed down by the panties, pushed aside to allow Karkat to fuck him but otherwise still pressing his cock against his belly. He can feel his cock leaking precum, soaking the lace once again. Karkat starts snapping his hips even harder and Dave lets out a hitched gasp that pulls into a long moan before he tries his best to match the roll of his hips to Karkat’s brutal pace.

Karkat wants Dave to cum from just this, just the sensation of fullness and the stimulation of his sweet spot. Dave is so overstimulated by this point he’s practically numb, but he wants to be good for Karkat.

So Dave rolls his hips back with Karkat’s thrusts and focuses on the sensations and listens to Karkat’s sexy sounds of pleasure and it’s Karkat’s moaning that does him in, finally tips him over that delicate edge and has him spilling into the lace and onto his stomach.

He clenches around Karkat even as he feels the rest of his body going limp and heavy. Dave wants Karkat to feel good, too, wants him to get his own release after working so hard to rile Dave up.

“B-bab-y...” Dave moans, eyes fluttering as he rides out the end of his climax, “Karkat...”

-

It doesn't take much more until Dave is tensing, moaning, tightening around him and Karkat jackhammers his hips faster, fucking Dave through his orgasm. But even after Dave goes limp he remains clenched around Karkat's cock, still being so, so good even while he's fucked out.

Karkat thrusts again, once, twice, fingers digging into Dave's soft skin, and cums with a long moan, Dave's name falling brokenly from his tongue as he cums inside his boyfriend.

He manages to collapse to the side instead of directly into Dave, his cock slipping out. He wonders if Dave would ever be willing to take his cock without fucking, just remain connected like that while they lay together, keeping Karkat warm. Something to talk about in the future.

For now, Karkat stares up at the ceiling, chest heaving. His limbs are pleasantly tired and he doesn't want to move, but he's suddenly reminded that he's wearing an entire suit and this is not going to be comfortable to fall asleep in.

He pushes himself from the bed, standing up to quickly strip down to his boxers, tossing the suit over Dave's desk chair. He'll probably have to get it dry cleaned. When he's done he moves to the side of the bed and easily nudges and moves Dave's limbs until he can help him out of his dress. He carefully takes off the heels and sets them on the floor, pressing a kiss to each ankle, then has Dave lift his hips so he can slide the panties off.

They're soaked with cum and Karkat makes sure Dave's hazy eyes are on him as he brings them to his mouth and sucks on them, the salty taste bursting across his tongue. He doesn't do it for long before pulling them away from his face and holding them up to Dave's mouth.

"It's your mess, baby," he says. "Help me clean up."

-

Karkat’s always pretty adamant about wrapping up. There’s been a few rare occasions when the trek to the bedroom to procure a box of condoms is just too far of a trek in the midst of the throws of passion. Or maybe Karkat actually forgot his Handy-Dandy Backup Wallet Condom (or they already used the first one...)

It didn’t happen often. But that just made it all the better when it did.

Karkat cums inside of Dave, hot and pulsing, Dave can feel every twitch of Karkat’s cock as he shoots more and more of his cum deep inside of him. Maybe some people found the aftermath pretty gross, having spunk leak out afterwards as gravity did her dirty, dirty work. But Dave kinda thought it was hot as hell.

Dave feels the bed jump as Karkat collapses down beside him, and Dave giggles sleepily as it bounces him on the mattress. As soon as Karkat’s weight comes down, the bed shifts and Dave twists his head around as he watches Karkat strip out of his suit (yummy) and then comes back to the bed.

Dave can only make bleary little hums as Karkat moves him around on the bed, pulling off the dress. His legs jump a little when Karkat kisses his ankles, making Dave giggle stupidly again. Then off come the panties, and Dave watches with rapt attention and Karkat _puts them in his mouth_ , right where Dave’s cum stain was.

Then Karkat holds out the panties to Dave, and Dave can smell his own musk coming off the lace and it makes his head even foggier than it already is.

“My, my,” Dave drawls, chuckling hazily under his breath, “maybe we oughta commission Kanaya for some edible panties next time, huh? Really let our freak flag fly.”

Karkat is still holding out the panties expectantly, so Dave cranes his head up and carefully takes them into his mouth, sucking the damp lace into his mouth as he stares up at Karkat with his matching eyes.

-

Dave is adorably giggly, and Karkat can’t help but smile as he brings up edible panties.

“That might actually be a first for her,” he says. “But I’ll look into it if you want, babe.”

Then Dave takes the panties in his mouth and Karkat’s breath hitches at the sight. Dave’s bright red eyes stare up at him, half-lidded as he sucks his cum off of the delicate lace, and Karkat would take a picture if he could, immortalize this image on film to look at again and again, because Dave looks so. Fucking. Beautiful.

“Good job, gorgeous,” Karkat says when he thinks he can speak without his voice breaking. He gently pulls the panties out of Dave’s mouth and replaces them with his lips. “Think you got them nice and clean.”

He crawls back into bed, pulling Dave against him. He tucks Dave’s head beneath his chin and draws circles on his back with his fingers.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. A small coil of anxiety curls in his stomach. “Was that… okay? Was there anything we did that you didn’t like?”

Dave never told him to stop, but Karkat wants to know, so when (if) they do this again he can be better for his boyfriend.

-

Karkat pulls the panties from Dave’s mouth and then crawls back into bed, which Dave is more than okay with. He sighs happily as Karkat pulls him in close, and Dave nuzzles into Karkat’s big, warm chest, wrapping an arm loosely around Karkat’s waits and letting his eyes flutter closed as Karkat runs his fingertips over Dave’s bare back.

The Karkat asks if all of that was _okay_ , and Dave can’t suppress the laugh that bursts out of him, a half-snort of surprise.

“It was a hell of a lot more than just okay, babe,” Dave murmurs.

He presses a kiss to Karkat’s chest and then nuzzles back in. Mmmm, post-sex Karkat smelled so fuckin’ good. Dave wants to swallow him whole.

“I feel like I’m floatin’ around somewhere by cloud nine...actually I may have surpassed it and gotten up to cloud ten. Gonna take a good-ass while to come down from this high you fucked me all up into, baby.”

Dave wiggles his foot between Karkat’s calves until Karkat lifts his leg so Dave can tuck his in between, pretzeling them together even further.

“You oughta be mean like that more often,” Dave says, sighing softly, “was fuckin’ hot.”

-

Dave wants him to be mean more often? Karkat files that bit of information away. He… doesn’t entirely know how he feels about how he just treated Dave. Yeah, it was hot as fuck, but he also feels weirdly guilty for it. But as long as Dave enjoyed it, that’s the important thing. Karkat will dissect whatever weird hangup he has later, when he doesn’t have a pretty, blissed out boy in his arms.

“Stay up there as long as you like, baby,” he says softly. “You’ve more than earned it. You were so fucking good.”

God, Karkat is exhausted. In a very pleasant way, but exhausted nonetheless. And now that he’s curled up with Dave pressed against him, he can feel sleep looming closer, wanting to pull him under. Being like this with Dave is worth putting off sleep, though.

“You need anything, babe?” he asks. “Water or something? I’ll get it for you.”

-

Dave’s heart melts when Karkat asks him if he needs anything. His sweet little doting boyfriend obviously wasn’t used to being mean, even if it was just for fun and pretend. Dave presses kisses up Karkat’s chest, his neck, his jaw, then finally on the lips.

“You could put the blanket around us,” Dave says, bumping their noses together, “And cuddle me a whole bunch.”

Having a boyfriend who appreciated after-sex cuddles as much as Dave did was never going to stop being the best fucking thing ever, and Dave fully intended to cash that chip in at every chance he got.

“And keep running your fingers down my back,” Dave adds on, “It feels nice.”

Usually there was aftercare involved with this kind of shit, right? They did get pretty intense with it, after all. Dave’s never been put into such a state before, and while he’s still riding the high from it, he does feel like he’s seeking out affection and touch even more than he normally does after sex. But he’s also trying to make Karkat feel good by asking for all the things he is, too.

It had all been an act, of course, but Dave knew Karkat was a softie, and was always adamant on never treating Dave unkindly or with any hostility. If Karkat had a bad day and bit Dave’s head off he instantly and profusely apologized, even if Dave told him it was okay. So this all must have taken a lot out of him, and with Karkat the only thing that would help him would be being able to go back to his sweet and caring and mother hen self again.

It was kind of the perfect combo. They could help themselves by helping each other. It was basically what their whole relationship was all about.

-

If all Dave wants is cuddles then Karkat can sure as fuck provide. He moves away to grab the blanket and pull it up over them, making sure it’s covering Dave up to his chin, then scoots back in. He returns his hand to Dave’s back but makes larger motions, stroking his fingertips up and down Dave’s spine.

He slips his leg between Dave and kisses his forehead gently. He wants to be closer, wants to touch and be comforted by Dave’s sweet presence _more_ but it’s not physically possible. He feels strangely needy, but at least Dave doesn’t seem to mind. 

“I’m gonna have to empty my fucking bank account to give Kanaya a proper tip,” he says, laughing lightly. “Completely worth it. And I hope you know she’ll be dying to make you more shit. If I’m lucky I might be able to transfer her entire focus to you.”

Unlikely, but Karkat can dream.

-

Karkat does everything that Dave asks for, pressing them even closer together after they’re both snug under the blanket. Dave hums appreciatively as Karkat runs his fingers down his back just the way Dave wanted him to.

“I hope not, she made you a damn fine suit, after all,” Dave says, running his palm over Karkat’s bare chest. “Besides, I don’t think I could replace you as her favourite client.”

Maybe if Karkat actually bought clothes that weren’t two-to-three-sizes too big for him, Kanaya wouldn’t be so inclined to insist on aiding in his wardrobe. Dave doesn’t know why Karkat insists on hiding his rockin’ bod all the time, it was a real travesty. Then again, it also meant Dave got to be the only one to ogle when Karkat _did_ decide to show off his assets. Dave supposes he’d have to take his small victories where he could.

“I wouldn’t mind her making me a couple more things, though. Maybe a pair of those pants with the buttons all down the side so I can dramatically rip them off whenever I wanna jump your bones. Which would be often.”

-

A laugh is startled out of him at the mental image Dave’s words provide. He shakes his head fondly.

“You can try to convince her but I’m fairly sure rip-off pants is where she draws the line,” he says. “Though if you want another dress or some skirts… Or maybe a suit of your own, I think you could swing that.”

Dave in a suit is an image Karkat would like to see. He hopes he can help Dave feel more comfortable in feminine clothes, since he seems to like them. And looks gorgeous in them, too. Though if Dave would like to keep them as a bedroom-only kind of thing, Karkat won’t complain.

-

Dave feels his cheeks burn when Karkat mentions Kanaya making him more skirts and dresses. He isn't sure if he'd be quite ready to wear that stuff casually, but he certainly enjoyed what he and Karkat just did. Dave is fine just leaving this as a private thing for now. His and Karkat's little secret. Well, Kanaya knew about it too, but Dave knew she'd keep his dignity intact.

As for a suit, well...Dave had certainly already considered it.

"Yeah, a suit of my own is a no-brainer," Dave says, tracing patterns into Karkat's bicep. "As long as you've got one to match, of course."

-

Karkat shakes his head.

“I already own one more suit than I ever planned to,” he grumbles. But if Dave wants him to, Karkat will wear a different suit every day for the rest of his life. He’d miss the comfy sweaters, though.

He yawns, squeezing his eyes shut. He nuzzles his chin in Dave’s hair and tilts his head to leave a kiss there.

“I’m tired as fuck,” he says. “You wore me out, baby.”

They should shower, preferably before John gets home, but Karkat’s eyes won’t open again. He’ll rest his eyes for a few minutes, then nudge Dave out of bed so they don’t wake up completely disgusting. Maybe Dave will let Karkat blow him once again in the shower. 

-

Karkat shakes his head no and says he doesn’t need any more suits. He doesn’t see Dave pouting as he’s nuzzling into Dave’s hair and kissing his head. The kiss feels nice but Karkat totally did not pick up on what Dave was dropping down.

But then Karkat says he’s tired as fuck, and Dave huffs out a little laugh. Yeah, no wonder he didn’t pick up on it—fucked-out Karkat wasn’t exactly perceptive, after all.

Karkat rests his cheek on top of Dave’s head with a lazy sigh. Dave smiles as he walks his fingers playfully up Karkat’s arm.

“I was talking about suits for our wedding, dumb-dumb.” Dave says lightly.

A little sneer tugs at his mouth as he puts on a voice of feigned hurt. “You don’t wanna wear matching suits on our big day...? You’d rather dress like a fuckin’ slob? If that’s how you really feel maybe I’ll just wear crocs with sandals. Maybe some zebra-print shorts and a nice triple XL button-down, one of those super touristy ones with all the hibiscus flowers and palm trees on it. That should look great in the wedding photos.”

-

 _Oh_. Karkat’s eyes fly open as his heart skips a beat. _Their wedding._

His shoulders shake with laughter as Dave keeps talking, describing the most hideous outfit. Somewhere out there, Kanaya is feeling something wrong in the universe, Karkat is sure of it.

“You wear your crocs and zebra print and I’ll wear my oldest, most worn-down sweatpants and we’ll make the officiator’s eyes bleed,” he says. “Kanaya and Rose will never speak to us again. Guests will projectile vomit as we walk down the aisle. It’ll be great.”

His grin softens, not that Dave can see it.

“I _suppose_ having another suit isn’t the worst thing in the world,” he relents.

-

Dave's grin is disgustingly sappy as he listens to Karkat. He presses his face into the crook of Karkat's neck, but he's sure Karkat can feel how big and goofy his smile is.

"Alright, it's settled. Nice, matchy-matchy suits for the ceremony to keep Kanaya happy, but for the reception we go balls to the wall. I'll DIY some waterdip crocs the night before the wedding so that the paint is like, half-dried and peeling all over the dance floor. I'll wear them for our first dance and everyone will have to stand there and pretend to enjoy three agonizing minutes of my crocs squeaking along the floor."

-

Karkat grins and squeezes Dave tightly. 

“I’ll go out the night before and find the most eye-searingly 80’s neon outfit I can find from a thrift store,” he says. “Looking at us will be physically painful. Guests will try to leave in droves but we’ll have locked the doors so there’s no way out. They’ll need years of therapy to recover.”

His face is starting to hurt from smiling so much. 

“Do you think we can guilt John into actually eating some cake?” he wonders. 

He likes talking about this, even though they’re being ridiculous and silly. He likes acting like getting married is something that’s bound to happen, an inevitability at this point. The only thing up in the air are the details, and Karkat couldn’t give less of a shit about those.

Dave could send out the invitations in his fucking terrible SBaHJ comic style and Karkat wouldn’t care. He’d give Dave shit for it, of course, but when _aren’t_ they needling each other, honestly?

-

Karkat squeezes Dave tight and Dave is pretty sure his smile is about to pop off his face and run away, it’s getting so big. Either that, or he and Karkat would merge into one. Whichever came first.

The laugh that comes out of Dave is slightly strained since Karkat isn’t letting up on the squeeze—not that Dave is complaining, of course. They’re both clingy fucks after sex so this was nothing new; though perhaps the intensity of it had amplified the clingy aftermath.

“Well I’d hate to get cake on your immaculate neon outfit, so when it comes time to cut the cake instead of pulling a cliché and shoving it in your face I’ll just throw my piece at John. If he isn’t already having a nervous breakdown in the bathroom by that point, that is.”

All joking aside, it was nice to talk about the concept of their wedding, especially so casually. Because it wasn’t a matter of if, but when. A total inevitability.

Dave was going to get to marry his soulmate, the love of his life, his best friend. They could make all the jokes they wanted about crocs and neon, but Dave is sure Karkat wouldn’t be able to resist the shmaltz that a Big White Wedding offered. They’d have some Davekat touches to the ceremony, of course, but Dave isn’t about to spoil what’s going to be the most important day of his life by turning it into a goddamn meme.

Karkat was worth so much more than that. It had to be special. A day to remember.

Dave turns his head up to press a soft kiss to Karkat’s jaw.

“I love you,” he says suddenly, all the mirth gone from his voice now.

-

Karkat’s heart melts at the tone of Dave’s voice. They say _I love you_ to each other all the time now, and it’s easy and comfortable and sweet. It makes Karkat’s stomach flip and he never, ever gets tired of hearing it but sometimes Dave says it in such a soft, revenant voice that Karkat is suddenly reminded of just how much he’s wrapped around Dave’s little finger, how much he would do and give for him and not bat an eye.

“I love you too, Dave,” he says softly. He wiggles and scooches down just enough to be able to press a lingering kiss to Dave’s lips. “I can’t fucking wait to marry you.”

Karkat would have already proposed if he didn’t know that Dave wanted to do it and make it special. Dave doesn’t seem to realize that _every_ moment with him is special, that Karkat loves him just as much in the quiet, calm moments as he does in the intense ones. But Karkat is willing to wait until Dave plans out the perfect proposal, however long it takes.

One day they’ll wear matching rings and wake up to each other every morning instead of most, and they’ll argue about chores and bills and Karkat will make blanket forts in the living room afterwards and drag Dave in to kiss him senseless. They’ll take turns making each other dinner and they’ll go out to visit Karkat’s dad every holiday and Karkat will tease Dave about his crush until Dave is bright red and kisses him just to shut him up. 

There’s a bright bubble of joy building in his chest the longer he thinks about it. He can’t believe he ever slogged through the days without Dave’s smile, his laugh, his equally obnoxious and endearing rambling. Thinking back, his life without Dave seems dark and hazy.

But with Dave at his side, the future is bright.

-

Karkat says he can’t wait to marry Dave and Dave feels his throat tighten up. He has to swallow thickly to work down the lump in his throat, smiling crookedly at Karkat when he kisses him softly on the mouth.

Dave could tell Karkat he loved him a million times in a million different ways and it would never feel like enough. He thinks back to the picture of Karkat’s mom that sits in his childhood bedroom; how Karkat’s smile looks just like hers. Dave wants to make Karkat smile like that every single day, wants to make him indescribably happy every goddamn second, until his cheeks ache from smiling so much.

He wants to make Karkat just as happy as Karkat has made him.

Dave is so damn lucky. Some people never meet their soulmate, or some people do but only get to be together for a short time before life strips them away from one another. Like Dave’s brother. Like Karkat’s parents.

Dave used to think he was cursed. That he wouldn’t get to have a soulmate. But now he does and Karkat is beautiful and kind and caring and grouchy and is a snob about food and gives Dave shit for his bad habits he’s still trying to kick after years of not having someone around who gave enough of a shit.

Dave will become someone who’s worthy of being called Karkat’s soulmate. He’ll take care of Karkat just as much as Karkat is always taking care of him; like he has from the moment they met.

Dave hopes he gets a long, long time with Karkat. He knows life is crazy and unexpected but he would fight tooth and nail for every second he gets with Karkat.

He should really hurry the hell up and propose. He’s probably just overthinking the whole thing, but he really does want it to be perfect. If he keeps pussyfooting around Karkat was going to get fed up and beat him to the punch.

There’s a ring in a box, under the bed. Right next to the sword he never reaches for.

With Karkat by his side, he doesn’t have to.


End file.
